


Until We Meet (Again)

by pensandlilies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Long, Mutual Pining, Original Character Death(s), love in the time of voldemort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:13:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 72,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26592706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pensandlilies/pseuds/pensandlilies
Summary: Rosemary Woodward left Hogwarts two years ago and has started a freelance Curse-Breaking business with her older brother Jacob. She is happy with her life after school, but she can't seem to escape the memory of the boy who left her that summer...and who keeps reappearing in her life now. Spanning 5 years in the Wizarding World canon (1993-1998), join Rosemary on her side of the battle against darkness and the story of her life and love between.
Relationships: Charlie Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Player Character (Hogwarts Mystery)/Charlie Weasley
Comments: 108
Kudos: 128





	1. Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Jacob and Rosemary and read two letters from another pair of siblings.

Chapter One

_Woodward Curse-Breaking Services._

Rosemary stood underneath the large sign hanging over the doorway as she fumbled with a key ring. There were around twenty identical keys on the blasted thing, and Jacob’s insistence that several stringent security measures be placed on the door meant that any spell she used to try to unlock it would produce less than desirable results. 

Rosemary sighed in relief as she fit the right key in; her shoulder had long since developed a dull ache from the weight of the bag she had slung over it. The door swung open, and the little brass bell on the other side of the doorway rang cheerily as it welcomed her back into their office after her month-long absence from the premises. 

The entryway was the only part of the room that was anywhere near in order; the rest of the tiny office was filled to the brim with books, scrolls, and strange-looking artifacts that Rosemary and her brother had collected on their many travels. Visitors always had eyes as big as saucers when they took in their motley collection. There was a formerly cursed skeleton propped in one corner, a tarnished scepter that used to hold a cracked green orb (the latter of which was now being used as a paperweight by Jacob), and an undetermined amount of trinkets and baubles from the various places they had traveled in the past few years.

Surveying to ensure that that the office was in the same condition it was left, Rosemary switched the sign hung on the door to OPEN as she the door shut behind her. Uncomfortable in the semi-darkness, she drew open the curtains that looked out over Diagon Alley and coughed as a small cloud of dust surrounded her. The month that Rosemary and Jacob had been gone for had taken its toll on the cleanliness of the office, and Rosemary made a mental note to do a thorough clean of the place lest they find another nest of owls in the rafters after their next long trip. Having to drive a flock of barn owls from their office had not been a welcome sight after spending three months in Mongolia chasing a kappa, who actually turned out to be a vengeful old wizard who had been displaced his home, and nearly bit a chunk out of Rosemary's leg once they had caught up to him. 

She carefully put her bag down on top of her desk that she tucked into the corner next to the window. It was the same as she had left it; a couple of texts on Ancient Runes of the Inca civilization, a small but ornate mirror with a cloth thrown over it, and a fair amount loose parchment and carefully arranged picture frames were scattered on the desk. Perhaps if at least one of the siblings had inherited their mother’s gene for meticulous cleanliness their space wouldn’t be such a mess, but both Jacob and Rosemary lived as if a small twister followed their every step. 

Rosemary sighed as sat down on her chair, propping her feet up onto the desk. It had been a long trip, but a successful one in the end. Hired to help a tiny Incan wizarding tribe protect their mountain village from a gang of thieving treasure seekers, Jacob and Rosemary had accidentally fallen into a sunken ruin along with the thieves during a chase one night. It had taken them a fortnight to crawl out of the deadly-guarded ruin, and in the end, only one of the thieves had managed to make it out along with them. He had been so young--only fourteen--that they had taken pity on the poor boy and deposited him with his family a few hours away before returning home. The Incan tribe had been very grateful to Woodward siblings and their help, paying for the services rendered in hunks of pure gold from their vast reserve. 

She opened up the satchel, examining the gold pieces that had been carefully wrapped in newspaper. She was still in awe of their haul; this was one of their biggest payments ever. Each nugget of gold was roughly the size of her fist, and they had been bestowed a baker dozen of them. Gringotts would pay a pretty penny for their yield, a fact that had kept Jacob grinning broadly their entire trip home. While perhaps not making as much money as if they were working for Gringotts directly, Jacob and Rosemary still did fairly well for themselves in the end. Knowing Jacob would want the satisfaction of being the one to take their payout to Gringotts, Rosemary carefully wrapping the gold back up and put it aside. Instead, Rosemary focused herself on rifling through the stack of missives she had on her desk. Around a dozen job offers, although most were trifle enough to just send an owl with advice on how to deal with a problem. However, some were either tricky or interesting enough to warrant a visit in person. A man whose jilted ex-girlfriend had magicked his bed to send a shocking electric current to anyone who laid down on it, a parcel of land that habitually burst into flames in Saskatchewan, and a four-year-old boy who had accidentally placed a Taboo on the word ‘broccoli’ in his hometown were just a few of the selection that a Rosemary had considered as the next destination for their work. 

Sighing with the anticipation of another trip in the upcoming week, Rosemary was distracted as she looked at one of the photographs on her desk. It was one of the many pictures her mother had taken at her Hogwarts graduation. Taken on the edge of the Great Lake, a seventeen-year-old Rosemary was in the center, with her arms thrown around her fellow graduates. Ben was smiling towards the camera on her left, Penny and Tonks were both sitting on the floor, Barnaby stood behind them making bunny ears behind Ben and Rosemary, and Charlie was on her right, his arm slung over her shoulder. They were all smiling widely. Rosemary watched as the photographed version of her and Charlie looked at each other and burst into laughter. 

There was a small pit in her stomach as she watched the picture move. Rosemary hadn’t spoken to Charlie in almost two years, but she couldn’t help the sinking sensation around her midriff when she thought of him. And she thought of him often. More often than she wished. She knew that she should’ve put the picture away somewhere by now like she had done the letter, but she couldn’t bring herself to hide a memory of such a happy moment. 

The sound of the shop bell broke Rosemary out of her reprieve. Jacob had walked into the shop laden with breakfast trays, coffee, and an owl perched on his shoulder.

“Breakfast and an owl?” Rosemary asked laughingly. “Lucky me.” 

“I’m only responsible for the breakfast,” Jacob responded, his voice muffled from the slice of toast in his mouth. Jacob dumped the trays on Rosemary’s desk unceremoniously and took a bite of his buttered bread. “He was sitting on the perch outside; I think it's for you.” The owl flitted off of Jacob’s shoulder and sat on the mirror, and Rosemary stroked its smooth feathers as she untied the letter from his leg. 

“It’s from Bill!” she exclaimed happily, recognizing the handwriting. News from the eldest Weasley didn’t bring the same painful memories as his younger brother; they had kept in frequent contact with each other while she traveled and he worked for Gringotts in Egypt. She and Jacob had even traversed a pyramid the year before with Bill and his fellow Curse-Breakers; a particularly nasty one with an army of mummies that they had struggled to escape from. They hadn’t been able to get any of the treasure out, as they were barely lucky to escape with their heads intact.

_Dear Rosemary,_

_Hope all is well in London; you must have gotten back from Peru if you’re getting this letter in Diagon Alley. How were the ruins? I hope you got through them all right, some of those old curses can turn nasty._

_Egypt is as brilliant as always, although I’ve had to stop telling mum some of my work stories. I’m worried she’s going to drag me down to the Burrow by the ear if she knew half of the things that I get up to here._

_But what I wanted to write about was for a favor—we found another tomb dating back to the Twelfth Dynasty, and we think it best if we get a bit of a backup before we go in. The curses that we have found in tombs like these can get fairly nasty, and we have a bit of a reduced team at the moment due to some interdepartmental shuffling (Merlin, I sound more and more like Dad every day). If you and Jacob can spare a week or so, we could use a few expert Curse-Breakers on our side. I’ve sent word ahead to the bank that you could be joining us in case if your answer is a yes; they should take everything you need to make the trip out._

_Sorry for such a short letter, but I want to get this out just in case the Egyptian Owl Union does end up on strike. Hope to hear from you soon!_

_Bill Weasley_

"Who is it from?" Jacob asked curiously, trying to peer over the edge of parchment nosily.

Any reluctance Rosemary had held about leaving London so soon dissipated quickly. Egypt, with Bill! Jacob groaned audibly as Rosemary read the letter aloud excitedly. “But we just got back from a month in Peru!” Jacob moaned. “Can’t we have a day or two of rest before Weasley makes us take off to another country?”

Rosemary laughed at her brother's obviously put on aggrievement. “You and I both know that you're dying to get back into tombs, Jacob. Besides, you’ve never been one to shy away from an adventure." He gave her a wicked smile that gave him away. 

“Doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate a bit of rest every now and again, does it?” he asked, still with mock resentment. But Rosemary could see right through her brother; Jacob was brimming with excitement over the possibility of entering another Egyptian tomb. He still seethed about the fact that the other one got out of his hands. 

“I haven’t seen Bill in ages!” Rosemary said excitedly, eager at seeing her old friend. Jacob rolled his eyes; he had never been the biggest fan of the Weasley brothers, even though Bill was leagues ahead of Charlie in his books 

“I suppose I should do laundry while I can,” Jacob grumbled, taking another bite of toast. “And Gringotts had better be sponsoring this little trip,” he added warningly. “I’m not going to be spending my own money to fill their coffers even more!” 

“That is if we even make it to the treasure,” Rosemary added, arching her eyebrow with incertitude. "You remember how the last one went." 

“Oh,” Jacob said menacingly, eyes narrowing. “We’re getting that treasure, even if it kills me." 

* * *

Their stay in London was indeed meant to be short. Rosemary penned a short message to Bill as Jacob deposited their Peruvian gold in Gringotts that morning. The goblins, familiar with the Woodward siblings as frequent patrons of the bank, had pulled Jacob aside to assure him that they prepared the necessary arrangements for their travel to Egypt in two days. 

Night had fallen over Diagon Alley. Rosemary and Jacob were poring over some of their literature on ancient Egyptian magic when Jacob spoke up. “Suppose we better swing by mum and dad’s before leaving,” Jacob said begrudgingly as if hoping that Rosemary would be opposed to the idea. 

“I suppose we should,” Rosemary replied, slightly bemused at the clear reticence in Jacob’s tone. “You haven’t been around since March, Mum’s getting antsy.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Jacob muttered, clearly annoyed at Rosemary’s teasing tone. “And it’s not Mum I don’t want to see,” he gritted. 

Rosemary looked up from her book. “He’s trying his best Jacob, you know he is.” Jacob was now sporting a magnificent scowl at the mention of their father. “And you can’t in good faith tell me you’ve made this easy on him.”

“Me?!” Jacob exclaimed angrily. “I haven’t done anything other than watch my best friend blow himself up and then get stuck in a bloody portrait for over half a decade!” 

“You and I both know that isn't true,” Rosemary replied sharply, eyes narrowing. “You could be a little more forgiving to the man who watched his idiot son get expelled from Hogwarts and then disappear for seven years.” 

“Oh, as if you’re so perfect, Rosemary! You did everything I ever did, except you had the luck to get away with it!” He was on his feet now, raging at the injustice he felt he had endured. “Dumbledore always had it out for me, you got fortunate enough for him to like you!”

Rosemary followed Jacob to her feet. “Everything I did, I did to find you! And don’t you forget, I watched my best friend die too! Would you call that _fortunate_ , Jacob?” she spat out. Jacob seemed to lose his anger all at once when he realized that Rosemary had begun to cry. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” Jacob sighed heavily, sinking back down into his chair. “I shouldn’t have said that.” Rosemary sighed too, settling back into her chair, the fight draining out. Jacob's expulsion was indeed a point of contention between the Woodward siblings. Rosemary knew that her brother harbored a lot of resentment from his expulsion, even though the Ministry had allowed Jacob to keep his wand after everything was settled in Rosemary’s final year at school. 

“I know it’s not fun for you Jacob, but you know they miss you. Just promise you’ll...make an effort with Dad.” Jacob grumbled under his breath; there was much-unresolved tension between father and son that made their interactions tense for the past few years. Martin Woodward has not taken the news of his son's expulsion well, and while their parents had been overjoyed at the reappearance of their son neither Jacob nor their father had quite forgiven the other for the words exchanged before Jacob’s disappearance. 

Now lost in her memories, Rosemary looked back on what had happened the summer that Jacob went missing. She was eight, and Rosemary had been confused when Jacob had arrived home in late April instead of his graduation planned in June. Her father had yelled, her mother had cried, and her brother had just sat in silence with no expression on his face. There was nothing that Rosemary recognized in her brother in those few weeks he was at home. Any trace of the mischievous and quick-witted Jacob had disappeared, leaving only an empty shell of a teenage boy. Rosemary felt like she walked on eggshells around her brother; she remembered thinking that if she made one wrong move, her brother would disintegrate.

One night, she had awoken to muted thumps on the wall to her right. Jacob’s room. Eight-year-old Rosemary had peered bleary-eyed into Jacob’s room, the bright light of his lamp making her eyes hurt. When she saw he was packing, she had rushed in. 

“Jacob?” Rosemary had asked, her voice trembling. “Where are you going?” 

Jacob had looked up from his haphazardly packed bag, and for the first time, Rosemary had been scared of her brother. The blank look was gone; instead, his eyes were wild and feverish, shining with a maniacal look that young Rosemary had never seen before. 

“I’m leaving,” he said, tossing many crumpled and ripped papers into his pack. “I was right; I have to prove I was right.” 

“Where are you going?” Rosemary stayed lingering by the doorway, too scared to step into the room where Jacob was dashing from corner to corner frantically. 

“I need to find them,” Jacob muttered, more to himself than to answer Rosemary’s question. “I can't stay here.” Giving his pack string a tight pull, he threw it over his shoulder and took out a small piece of parchment from his pocket. Looking at the watch he had gotten for his seventeenth birthday, Jacob whispered. “Time to go.”

When he made his way to the doorway, it was like he had finally noticed Rosemary’s presence. The maniacal look dropped from his eyes, and his face softened ever so slightly. He knelt at the doorway, so his eyes were level with Rosemary’s. “Rosie, I have to go.” 

Rosemary had started crying in earnest then. “You don’t have to go, Jacob, please don’t go! It’ll be okay, everyone knows it was an accident and they’ll still let you do magic!” 

Jacob’s eyes had hardened then. “I don’t want anyone to let me do anything anymore, Rosie. Not anymore.” He had straightened up then, the steel back in his eyes. 

“Please don’t go, Jacob.” Rosemary knew it was futile then, but she had to try. Her brother was her hero, no matter what her cousin's said about him at family gatherings when they thought she couldn't hear them. She had thrown her arms around his legs tightly. 

“I love you, Rosie.” Carefully detangling her arms, he walked down the stairs without a look back. 

And just like that, he was gone. Gone for over six years. Their parents had found Rosemary in curled up tightly in Jacob's bed the next morning, her eyes swollen from crying. 

The Jacob that sat across from her was a very different Jacob. His time in the portrait had frozen him in time. Her twenty-nine-year-old brother could have been her twin; the near-decade between them had shrunken to only two years. He was more settled now that their quest was over, although his penchant for adventure had never quelled. Just like Rosemary. Because although she always maintained that it was for Jacob and later Rowan that she continued with her searches for the Cursed Vaults there was always something that she had been too scared to admit to everyone but one. It was for her too. She loved Hogwarts, but she chafed under the heavy-handed rules. That’s why she had said no to Gringotts when they offered her a job after graduation, and why she had said yes to Jacob when he asked if she wanted to strike out their own. 

“It’s settled then?” Rosemary asked, making sure to keep her tone as casual as possible. “A visit tomorrow?”

“Sure, sure,” Jacob grumbled again, more begrudgingly than agreeable. But agreeable nonetheless, and that’s what mattered to Rosemary. 

* * *

Later that night, Jacob and Rosemary had retired to their separate little rooms above the shop and Rosemary rooted around in her nightstand as she let herself remember the summer after Hogwarts. She had said no Gringotts for Jacob, but she had done it for another reason too. A reason she had tried so often to push out of her mind but never seemed to quite fully disappear. She found what she was looking for stuck behind one of her drawers, and Rosemary smoothed the rumpled and slightly yellowed parchment out. When Rosemary had received it, she had thought that if maybe she showed the letter itself little care, maybe she would care less about the words written inside. 

_Dear Rosemary,_

_I wish I didn’t have to write this, that I could have seen you before leaving but I don’t if it would have made this any easier._

_I’m not going to Wales this fall. There was word of an open position in a dragon sanctuary in Romania and I took it. I know that wasn’t the plan, but I couldn’t give up the opportunity. I’m so sorry Rosemary. I wish I could give you a better explanation than this, but I can’t. You don’t have to forgive me; I know that leaving now is unforgivable. If you don’t wish to speak to me after this I understand, I won’t write again if I don't hear from you._

_I’m sorry._

_Charlie_

Rosemary watched as a tear fell onto the parchment. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I've been working on this fic for a while, and I finally decided to go ahead and publish it! This is my first one, so I'm really excited to see how it goes. Please leave comments about what you think of the story, I'd love to hear them! 
> 
> Notes on the fic:  
> -The fic is canon-compliant! As close as possible to the books, and pretty close with the video game. I'll probably take some liberties with any source material from HPHW, but I'm mostly using it as backstory. Some (but not all) of the characters from the game will appear in the fic later on. Any character deaths from the book will (unfortunately) happen.  
> -There will be some mature scenes! I'll give fair warning before hand, but please keep that in mind!  
> -Inspiration from this fic came from Wispila on Tumblr, please support their wonderful art! (we have different OCs)  
> -Can you guess what House Jacob and Rosemary were in at Hogwarts? You'll find out in the next chapter when we meet their parents!


	2. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet the rest of Rosemary's family, and we get a flashback to what she did last summer.

Chapter Two

Jacob and Rosemary’s childhood home stood almost ominously at the end of the lane. They had Apparated in the little park whose thicket of bushes allowed for perfect cover from curious Muggles.

The house was beautiful and stately, kept near spotless in its upkeep thanks to their mother's fastidiousness and father’s handiness. It was the most beautiful house on the block.

“Best behavior, right Jacob?” Rosemary asked her brother nervously as they walked up the steps of the porch. It had taken the entire day to convince Jacob to stay for a visit that was longer more than five minutes. Jacob and their father had not spoken more than ten words to each other after the fight they had had when Rosemary told her parents she was joining Jacob as a Curse-Breaker. That was nearly two years ago, and there was not a week that didn't go but without a letter from their mother begging Jacob to come for dinner and bury the hatchet. 

“Best behavior,” Jacob responded dryly, pasting a smile on his face that slid off as soon as Rosemary rang the doorbell. The door swung open to reveal their father standing in the door looking immensely surprised. 

“I didn’t know the both of you were coming,” he blurted out, a little too harshly for Rosemary's liking. 

“Mum invited us for dinner. We thought we’d pop in before leaving again,” Rosemary breathed nervously.

“Well, I suppose better come inside then,” her father huffed. "Hiya Rosie, sweetheart.” He gave Jacob a shrewd look. “Son.” Stepping back to allow them into the house, their father gestured them inside. “Rosie, you have to come and look at the hydrangeas later, they’re as big as your head now.” 

“Dad, let me at least come in and say hello to Mum first before you drag me out to the garden,” Martin Woodward's pride and joy was his garden; he spent hours every morning to make sure everything was growing accordingly. Rosemary kissed her father’s cheek as she went inside. As usual, her father smelled strongly of wood polish and sawdust. Jacob gave him a small, stiff nod as he passed through, which their father returned in kind.

That was something, Rosemary thought to herself. At least they weren't ignoring each other.

Rosemary sniffed as she walked into the house; a familiar smell lingered tantalizingly. “Something smells amazing!” 

“That’ll be your mother; she’s in the kitchen,” he replied, waving her through. Jacob went to follow closely behind but stopped short as Rosemary gave him a look, trying to tell him to stay and talk with their father. There was no point in bringing Jacob around if they were both going to spend the night circling each other like a pair of dogs fighting in the ring. Jacob shot a disgruntled look back at Rosemary but sat abruptly down on one of the settee chairs looking resigned. Their father took a seat awkwardly across from him, looking at Rosemary expectantly. 

“I’m going to say hello to Mum,” Rosemary said quickly. “Why don’t the two of you stay and...catch up.” Their father looked as if he was about to protest, but Rosemary rushed out of the room before she was roped into being a buffer between father and son. 

The house was so familiar to Rosemary that she could have made her way through it with a blindfold on. As a child she used to explore each and every corner of the house, hoping that one day she would stumble into a hidden room or a secret hallway. The sitting room and the kitchen were both filled to the brim with exquisite but mismatched furniture that their father had built for every anniversary and birthday until their mother had put her foot down and asked him to stop. He was a carpenter like his father had been, making and designing furniture for wizards and Muggles alike. His Muggle customers were in awe of how quickly he was able to fulfill the most complicated and fastidious of orders, while the magical clientele knew him as the producer of the finest magical furniture in the whole of Britain. 

“Hi Mama,” Rosemary called as she came into the kitchen. Her mother smiled widely as Rosemary walked in. She was immaculately dressed and neatly put together as always. The long black hair that she had passed onto both of her children was twisted elegantly up, and her clothes were pressed and starched so immaculately that Rosemary felt the need to change. It was a wonder to Rosemary that her mother had fallen in love with her father; his work meant that he was usually covered in smudges and grime that took a heavy-handed Scouring Charm to get fully off. 

“Hello Rosie, sweetheart. How was Peru?” Her mother’s accent had faded quite a bit after the decades spent in England. Cristina de Sanprudencio was born the middle child in one of the oldest pureblood families in Spain; wealthy socialite and granddaughter of the Spanish Minister of Magic at the time, she had been Rosemary's age when she was expected to marry the eldest son of another pureblood family. Instead, she married a Muggle-born English wizard who she had met on a trip abroad and left Spain without looking back. Rosemary wondered sometimes if her mother had ever wanted to return to her homeland; it had been so long since Rosemary had visited Spain that she couldn't even remember what it was like. All she could remember was a resplendent manor that housed a multitude of house-elves (of which Rosemary had never seen in person before), and cousins who would tease her for not knowing any magic yet. 

“It wasn't too awful. Everything went well enough in the end.” Rosemary hugged her mother, who had to reach up to peck her on the cheek. While a lanky Jacob and her burly father dwarfed Rosemary; her mother was at least a full hand shorter than her. “It’s such a beautiful place though Mum, there are so many mountains and cool plants. You and Dad should go to South America one day. I think you’d love it.” 

Her mother waved away the thought. “Not for me, I’ve done my fair share of traveling already,” she smiled. “I’m enjoying retired life too much.” Rosemary had to laugh. Apparently whoever she and Jacob had gotten their love for adventuring from, it certainly hadn’t been her parents. 

“I made paella,” her mother said, lifting the lid to a simmering pot on the stovetop with a flick of her wand. “Do you want to try some?” Rosemary spooned a bit of the steaming rice and shrimp into her mouth, and she was flooded with the familiar taste of the dish her mother made every time Jacob or Rosemary left for Hogwarts. 

“Mum, you’re a miracle worker,” Rosemary sighed, taking another heaping spoonful from the pot. “I’ve missed your cooking...take away food just doesn’t compare to homemade.” Her mother smacked Rosemary with a spoon as she reached to take more.

“Ouch!” Rosemary rubbed her wrist while giving her mother a reproachful look.

“We won’t have any supper left if you go on in that way,” she chided, but Rosemary could hear the pleased tone in her voice from the compliment. “And we have your father’s treacle tart for dinner, so you’re in for a treat.” Rosemary sighed with anticipation. 

“Don’t worry, we should be ready to sit down in a few minutes.” She stopped. “Did you bring Jacob with you?” she asked hopefully. Rosemary knew that mother didn’t expect a positive answer; it had been months since Jacob had visited home and even longer since he had come around for longer than five minutes. 

“He’s out in the sitting room with Dad.” Her mother looked shocked, but Rosemary couldn't tell if it was from Jacob’s presence or the fact that her son was alone with his father for the first time in a decade. 

Nevertheless, she smiled broadly.

“I’m glad he decided to finally come around,” she replied. “It’ll be nice to see the whole family around the table again. It’s been too long since we’ve had that.” Rosemary felt guilty; perhaps she should have tried harder to convince Jacob to try to med fences earlier Rosemary thought to herself. Letting Jacob and her father reconcile on their own had not worked at all. 

The two men hadn’t lingered in the drawing-room; it only took a few seconds for them to follow Rosemary through to the kitchen. With their steely expressions and a bright red flush in their faces, Rosemary had to believe that they had sat in silence until one or the other couldn’t stand it any longer. 

She pretended not to notice anything amiss, and her mother followed her example.

“Jacob, darling!” their mother exclaimed, extending her arms out for an embrace. “I’m so glad you finally came home for a visit.” 

“Hello Mum,” Jacob said, his face slightly abashed as he stooped down to kiss his mother on the cheek. “Something smells divine.”

“It’s paella,” she responded with a smile. “Your favorite made special just in case. I keep hoping you’ll make an appearance every time I make it. ” 

“Oh, Mum….” Jacob sighed, and Rosemary couldn’t help but grin at her mother’s obvious guilting. 

“Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you Mum?” Rosemary giggled. Jacob rolled his eyes. 

“Nevermind that now, you’re here now,” their mother said, patting Jacob’s cheek comfortingly. “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes, why don’t two of you help your father set the table?” 

Rosemary and her father set to work pulling things out of the cabinets, but Jacob only looked around the kitchen with confusion on his face. 

“Mum and Dad redid the kitchen a little while ago,” Rosemary explained under her breath while taking dishes out from one of the shelves. Out loud she explained, “Mum insisted on doing a whole kitchen renovation and just about destroyed it in the process. Every surface in the house was stacked with kitchen things for a while, it was a miracle to walk through it without breaking something.” 

“‘Course you would’ve noticed that if you came around a little more often, wouldn’t you Jacob?” their father asked gruffly, pulling flatware out from a drawer. Jacob flushed a deep red, and Rosemary shot her father a dirty look.

“I suppose so,” Jacob muttered angrily; Rosemary could tell he was making an effort to bite his tongue.

“I’ll remind you that you know exactly where we live Dad, and you haven’t been to see us either,” Rosemary said crossly, trying to be fair. “I even offered to help set you up with a shop near us in Diagon Alley. You’d make a fortune with the foot traffic that the shop would get.”

“Bah, Diagon Alley,” their father said with a scoff, laying out the flatware. “I’m not giving some scummy landlords my hard-earned Galleons. I’ve got more sense than that,” he responded, shooting Jacob a look that Rosemary took to mean that _Jacob_ was the one lacking in sense. Rosemary shook her head at her father’s ever-present stubbornness--a trait he had unfortunately passed onto his children, Rosemary thought to herself.

Once the table had been laid out to her mother’s satisfaction, Rosemary and her family settled in their old spots around the dinner table. Rosemary felt an odd sense of deja vu; how long had it been since the four of them had sat across from each other and ate dinner like a normal family? 

  
An awkward silence overtook the dinner table as they each took a serving of the paella. Not even the mouthwatering smell that emanated from the pot was enough to break the tension that formed around them. 

“How is business then Rosie?” her father asked after a few minutes of only the sound contemplative chewing had filled the air. “Travels going alright, making good money?” 

  
“Oh yes,” Rosemary said excitedly, both eager to boast about their ventures and bring some respite from the awkward silence. “Business has really been booming lately, even more than we expected. Right, Jacob?” 

“Yep. Making an honest living for myself if you can believe it, Dad.” Jacob added sourly, keeping his gaze cast down to his plate. Rosemary grimaced, the obvious dig had not gone unnoticed and mother shot her a nervous look from across the table. Their father however only nodded absentmindedly, as if he hadn’t heard the bitterness in Jacob’s tone. 

“At least that’s something,” he responded, chewing thoughtfully. “I can’t say I was pleased when you pulled Rosemary into this Curse-Breaking endeavor. She ought to have gone into something more...secure after Hogwarts, as your Mum had offered.” 

Cristiana Woodward’s Spanish connections were invaluable at the Department of International and Magical Cooperation; she had worked for the Ministry for many years after moving to Britain, retiring only the year before as the Deputy Head under Barty Crouch. She had offered to get Rosemary a position after Hogwarts in the department, which Rosemary had ended up refusing in favor of Jacob and Curse-Breaking. 

“Dad, Jacob didn’t _pull_ me anywhere. I wanted to go with him, I’m not meant for desk work you know that.” Her father frowned. “I’m too much like you for that,” she added teasingly, trying desperately to ease the conversation forward with a joke. Her father, however, had only just begun.

“I mean, the whole Cursed Vaults business was bad enough, making a life out of sticking your neck out for other people’s problems just seems silly to me. And I already told Rosemary this, but after two deaths you would think th-” 

Rosemary and Jacob spoke at the same time.

“Dad!” Rosemary hissed as Jacob slammed his palm down on the table. 

“Don’t you dare-” Jacob snarled, his face flushing red. 

“Dare what, try to protect my daughter from going the same way as-” 

Jacob knocked over his chair with the force of which he stood up. His hand twitched near his pocket as if itching to pull out his wand.

“You have _never_ even bothered to-” 

“Jacob, _calm down_. ” their mother interjected sharply. She turned to her husband. “Martin, enough.” 

Jacob trembled for a moment. Rosemary fingered the hilt of her wand secured up the sleeve of her shirt; she wouldn’t put it past Jacob to jinx their father in the state he was in. 

“Jacob, please.” Their mother stretched out a hand to Jacob entreatingly. “Let’s finish dinner,” she pleaded. 

Jacob’s face softened as he looked at their mother. He picked up his chair and sat carefully down, taking a long gulp from his wine glass. Rosemary let out a sigh; it was almost a relief that no wands had been drawn in the exchange. 

Silence took over the dinner table once again; all four members of the Woodward family had turned pink now. The only sounds came from the occasional clink of silverware and sounds of chewing that were almost deafening in the otherwise complete silence. 

“So...er...are you excited to visit Egypt again?” Rosemary’s mother asked, tentatively breaking the silence. “I remember you so enjoyed it last time.” 

“Very excited,” Rosemary said, answering when Jacob just scowled and looked down at his plate. “They were so fascinating last time, and we’re hoping for a more successful trip this time around.” 

“When you went last, was that last summer?” 

“No, last summer was the Albania trip.” Jacob’s head snapped up at the mention of Albania, and he shot Rosemary a warning look. 

“Albania, I don’t think you’ve mentioned what you were there?” her father asked, finally speaking up. 

“It was just a small trip,” Jacob interjected. “Nothing much interesting.”

Both he and Rosemary clammed up then, neither willing to offer more information. Rosemary’s heart starting beating too quickly, the way it always did when she unwillingly remembered what had happened in Albania. 

* * *

They had been sent an owl in the morning by the Headmaster in very early June, asking them to visit the castle that night with the utmost urgency. Rosemary and Jacob had been escorted into the castle by Filch, who kept up his grumbling and mutterings all the way to Dumbledore’s office. 

“Bringing back a couple of troublemakers like the pair of you, is he?” Filch barked to Rosemary and Jacob. “Maybe he’ll want to mark the castle down for demolition next!” 

“Oh Filch,” Jacob japed, throwing a lazy arm around the caretaker’s shoulders as they reached the stone gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster’s office. “You can’t know how much I’ve missed your sweet words of affection.” 

Near spitting with fury, Filch threw off Jacob’s arm. “Disrespectful!” he shrieked, his pale eyes bulging more prominently than usual. “If you were still a student, why I would-” 

“What?” Jacob interjected, his eyes shining with amusement. “Smack me with your walking stick and set Mrs. Norris on me again? Because that worked so well back then.” Jacob said with a derisive snort. 

Filch gaped and sputtered, too bewildered with rage to properly respond. Rosemary had to hold back a peal of giggles; Filch was much less terrifying now that she wasn’t a student. The caretaker gave Jacob a final look of loathing before turning on his heel abruptly, muttering and shuffling his way down the long hallway. 

“I’m sorry!” Rosemary called to Filch’s retreating figure. “Thank you!” She elbowed Jacob in the ribs. “Jacob, that was awful! Is that what you were like in Hogwarts?”

“I couldn’t help it,” Jacob sighed. “I really did miss the old bat.” They stood in front of the gargoyle, who seemed to be looking down at them almost expectantly. 

“Jelly slugs?” Rosemary offered questioningly. The gargoyle sprang aside to reveal the stone staircase. They made their way up the stairs, pausing in front of the great wooden doors. Before Rosemary could knock, she heard a voice from inside. 

“Enter.” 

Rosemary and Jacob exchanged apprehensive looks before pushing open the doors. To their surprise, two people were waiting in the office. Albus Dumbledore sat expectantly behind his desk, his hands clasped serenely. And hovering next to him, stood Severus Snape.

“What’s _he_ doing here?” Jacob spat out as soon as he noticed the Potions Master next to Dumbledore. 

“He’s here doing the same as you Jacob,” Dumbledore had responded calmly. “He is doing me a favor.” 

“A favor?” Jacob asked, snorting derisively. “I think it was more like answering a summons.” 

“If you are not up to the task, Mr. Woodward,” Snape sneered with narrowed eyes. “You are always free to leave.” 

“We got hired to do a job,” Jacob said venomously. “I don’t give up that easily, _Professor_.”

Rosemary placed a placating hand on her brother’s arm. 

“I think we’re just a little confused, Professor Dumbledore. We’ve never actually been hired for a job without knowing what the job in question is.” Jacob was still bristling next to her; Rosemary had to wonder if Snape was even worse with her brother during his Hogwarts years than he was with her. 

“I know this is unusual for you Rosemary,” Dumbledore gestured at the chairs in front of his seat, offering the siblings a seat that both of them took. “This is because the task I am offering to you is highly unusual. ” 

“You haven’t even told us what this task is supposed to be,” Jacob said crossly.

“I need you to find Lord Voldemort,” Dumbledore said simply. 

Rosemary felt the blood drain from her face. Next to her, Jacob gave a great shudder. 

“You-Know-Who died nearly twelve years ago Professor,” Rosemary whispered, ice flooding into her veins. Dumbledore looked up at her with steady eyes. 

“Not so Rosemary, I am afraid. Lord Voldemort attempted to kill Harry Potter only two days ago.” Rosemary and Jacob gaped at Dumbledore, too astonished to process what the Headmaster had just told them.

“Harry Potter?” Jacob asked incredulously. “You mean to tell me that the greatest Dark wizard who ever lived--who has been coincidentally dead for twelve years--ran around Hogwarts and tried to kill Harry Potter two days ago?” 

“He was not in flesh and blood as you and I are, but instead inhabited the body of our Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher, Professor Quirrell.”

“ _Quirinus_ Quirrell?” Jacob said, his mouth even more agape. “The Ravenclaw prat who was scared of his own shadow? A Death Eater?” 

“Not a Death Eater,” Snape responded venomously. “An idiot man who let himself get bamboozled by the Dark Lord to do his bidding a year ago and ended up dead because of it.” 

“He died?” Rosemary asked, looking bewilderingly between Snape and Dumbledore. “How?” 

“It is not certain,” Dumbledore said carefully. “We believe that hosting Lord Voldemort’s spirit became too much for him."

“So Harry is alright?” Rosemary responded with concern. “He You-Know-Who didn’t get to him?” 

“Harry very nearly perished in the confrontation, but is expected to make a full recovery.” 

“They fought?” Rosemary gasped. 

“In a manner of speaking,” Dumbledore responded, and Rosemary noticed he did not offer any more information. 

“He’s eleven!” Jacob exclaimed. 

“Which is why he nearly died,” Snaped hissed. “Only sheer dumb luck allowed Potter to escape the Dark Lord.” The four were silent for a moment as the information was processed by Rosemary and Jacob. 

“He’s alive?” Rosemary asked quietly. Dumbledore looked at her directly before responding evenly. 

“He is.” 

The coldest of chills ran through Rosemary's spine. Her voice trembled as she spoke again.

"He’s back?” 

“He never left Rosemary. While his body is gone, his consciousness has never left. That means that one day he will return as powerful as he was the night he murdered Lily and James Potter, and for that, we must be prepared.”

Rosemary saw a flash of emotion across Snape’s face as Dumbledore spoke, too quick for her to recognize before the elder wizard continued with his speech. 

“Jacob, Rosemary. You have to understand that what I am offering you is dangerous. Voldemort is indeed weak, weaker than he has ever been but I urge you not to mistake that as powerless. He can kill you.” 

Jacob and Rosemary had looked at each other. For a moment, their minds were shared. Rosemary felt Jacob’s fear, sharp and acrid in her mind, and knew he could feel hers. They both unearthed their resoluteness at the same time.

“What do you need from us?” Rosemary said, her jaw set with determination. 

Dumbledore hesitated. “Forgive me, Rosemary, but there is something else I must ask from you before we continue this conversation.” 

“Something else?” Jacob asked with a raised eyebrow. “What else do we have to give?” 

Dumbledore looked pained then. “The information I have cannot fall into the wrong hands. If one of Lord Voldemort’s devoted followers were to receive this information, it would only aid in accelerating his return.” 

“Do you think we’re rubbing elbows with Death Eaters?” Jacob asked aggressively. 

“Watch your tone, Mr. Woodward,” Snape spat out, but Dumbledore raised a placating hand. 

“No Jacob, it is the furthest thought from my mind that you Rosemary could be friendly with Death Eaters. But you cannot fault me for protecting the little information I have on the whereabouts of Lord Voldemort. I am sure that if you were in my position, you would do the very same.” 

Jacob didn’t protest that, but his face was still set in anger. “If our word means so little then," he asked fiercely. "What else could we offer?” 

It was Snape who answered, but Rosemary had already guessed what it was Dumbledore wanted. 

“An Unbreakable Vow.”

“An Unbreakable Vow?” Jacob asked, his voice pitched higher than usual with surprise. “Is that necessary? 

“I am afraid so, Jacob. If this task is to continue from the pair of you, this is what I require.” 

“Why don’t you send him then?” Jacob asked, pointing at Snape. “Or why don’t you go yourself? Too scared to get in the thick of things?”

“Foolish boy,” Snape sneered. “At least you can’t fault Hogwarts for the way your education turned out.”

Jacob flushed such a furious red that Rosemary was certain that he would not hesitate to curse Snape if Dumbledore was not present.

“Peace, Severus.” Dumbledore, giving Snape a piercing stare. “Rosemary and Jacob are willing to undertake a momentous task, and are no doubt deserving of answers.” He looked back at Jacob. “It’s not a lack of courage that prevents me from seeking out Lord Voldemort myself, nor is it the willingness of Severus to do it my stead. There are two reasons for which I ask you to do this.” 

“Firstly, while Lord Voldemort has been considerably weakened, especially after his fight with Harry, he is not without talents. He is expecting to be followed by me or by Severus or by any of the others who fought him in his first rise to power. You, however,” he said, gesturing at Rosemary and Jacob, “have never faced him, nor has he ever faced you. It will be much easier for you to find Lord Voldemort if he is not expecting you.” 

“Secondly, I am tasking the pair of you specifically because the two of you hold a very rare power that I am afraid will be needed for this venture.”

Dread filled Rosemary. There was only one power that she and Jacob had that would make them distinct from the more powerful wizards that Dumbledore had at his disposal. 

“Legilimency.” Rosemary finished. Dumbledore nodded. 

“More specifically, Occlumency. You and Jacob have protections in your mind that others do not possess. I suspect that Lord Voldemort’s gift as a powerful Legilimens had a great deal to do with his seduction of Professor Quirrell.” 

“You and your brother hold some of the most powerful natural Legilimency in Britain. A gift that has skipped from generation to generation in your mother’s bloodline has grown potent in you. And the Occlumency that I know you and Jacob have learned to protect yourselves with will prove even more invaluable. You will not fall prey to Lord Voldemort’s powers as easily.” 

Dumbledore stood up then, his arms outstretched beseechingly. “I can only entrust you with this. Will you do this?” 

Jacob and Rosemary looked at each other. They spoke in unison this time. 

“We will.” 

* * *

Dinner had continued in determined quietude after Jacob had shut down the conversation about Albania. Even Rosemary’s mother had stopped her attempts to continue the conversation, clearing away plates wordlessly once dessert had been polished off. 

Rosemary had followed her father out to the garden when he beckoned; it would be better to give Jacob and their mother some time alone without the presence of her father setting Jacob off.

The heat of the scorching summer sun had diminished during dinner; only the barest trace of the sunset lingered on the horizon and a cool breeze stirred the blossoms that Rosemary’s father was so eager to showcase. 

“Oh Dad, they’re beautiful,” Rosemary sighed, taking in the fragrant scent of the purple and pink flowers. Her father smiled proudly. 

“Aren’t they? They’ve taken all spring to bloom, but they came up beautiful.” He touched a blossom tenderly, and the frustration from the night’s events seemed to melt from his face. Rosemary knew her father was not a hard man. He put his love and his dedication into the things he loved, and she knew that their family was what he loved most of all. All they needed was a push, Rosemary thought. A push to reconcile all the bitterness that had grown around her father and brother. 

“Dad, about Jacob….” He grew stony-faced. “Dad, he really is trying.” 

Her father snorted in response. “Doesn’t feel like it.” 

Rosemary groaned with frustration.“I don’t know what else you want from him Dad,” she said crossly. “Everything he’s done in the past few years has been to try to make up for what happened back then. I know you guys had a row when he came back, but the point is that _he came back._ Imagine if you had lost him forever? Would you be feeling the same way if you had never seen him again?” 

Her father drew silent for a moment. “We didn’t think we could have children, did you know that?” he mentioned suddenly. "We tried for ten years before we had your brother, and there were almost another ten before we had you. I tried so hard to give you what I never had. Your mother, she grew up with magic. I didn’t. I was the only wizard in my family, and even before I got my Hogwarts letter my parents knew I was different.” His eyes were in the distance now, remembering his life from decades before. “And they loved me less for it.” 

  
Rosemary was quiet. She had always known that her grandparents had not been happy with her father’s magical powers, but he had never spoken this freely about what it had been like for him to grow up Muggle-born. 

“So when we finally had Jacob, we thought that was the only chance we were going to get.” He looked at Rosemary sadly. “I gave him everything I’d never had, everything I had always wanted growing up. When he got sorted into Hufflepuff just like me, I was so proud. I finally had something to pass on, some kind of identity to leave behind that wasn’t Mudblood or freak of nature.” 

“And then my son, my pride and joy goes and gets himself expelled after killing his best friend. What would you have me say to that, Rosie?” 

“Jacob did not kill Duncan,” Rosemary said hotly. “And that fact that you would even say that-” The words got lost in Rosemary’s throat. Jacob stood frozen on the porch, a look of horror fixed on his face. 

“Rosemary, I’m leaving now.” Jacob’s voice trembled as he spoke, his voice strung unnaturally high. “I’ll see you at home.” He turned on his heel and rushed back out through the house, and his shoulders seemed unnaturally stiff as he walked. Rosemary felt her stomach sink as she realized what he had heard.

“Dad.” Rosemary cried. “Why would you say that?” She buried her face in her hands, fighting the urge to scream into her palms. 

“I didn’t know he was there,” her father said looking aghast, but his jaw hardened quickly. “That doesn't mean that I've said something that wasn't true."

Rosemary and her father stared at each other for a moment in silence. Rosemary sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that night. 

“I’ll see you around, Dad. I hope you figure out whether you want to lose your son for good this time around.” 

She followed her brother out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two is here! Thought it would take less than a week, but it took a little longer! Please leave a comment if you're enjoying the fic so far, I'd love to hear them!
> 
> Notes:  
> -No Charlie angst this week. :/  
> -A lot of unresolved issues in the Woodward family. A lot.  
> -They're Hufflepuffs! Loyal and kind, even though the Woodwards carry the unfortunate hot streak.  
> -Snape hates Jacob because they went to school together! Jacob really looked up to the Mauraders (especially Sirius), and Jacob knows all about the Snape's Death Eater past so there's a lot of bad blood between the two. Snape also hated Rosemary because he hated Jacob. Sound familiar?  
> -Yep, Rosemary and Jacob went to find Voldemort after he went missing the second time. They also found him. Let me know in the comments if that would be an interesting chapter to read, I have a few ideas for it!  
> -Next week: Rosemary and Jacob go to Egypt! And we say hello to a familiar family.


	3. Egypt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rosemary and Jacob arrive in Egypt, and we meet some old friends.

Chapter Three

“Merlin’s beard, I forget how awful that heat is,” Jacob panted as he and Rosemary dragged their suitcases through the teeming streets of Cairo. Both siblings were damp with sweat as they made their way down the winding streets of the Egyptian city. The Portkey had dropped them off in the empty courtyard of a wealthy British-born Egyptian witch who allowed the Ministries of Magic to use her expansive backyard as a dropoff point—for a pretty penny of course. Unfortunately for Rosemary, the witch's house was nearly half an hour on foot away from the inn they were staying in. Neither Jacob nor Rosemary dared Apparate in such unfamiliar streets, and Jacob had stubbornly insisted that it would be quicker to walk than to take a taxi in Cairo’s congested streets. Thanks to letting Jacob have his way, Rosemary felt that perhaps she could wring out an entire glass of perspiration from her blouse. 

“Faster, eh?” Rosemary quipped, grinning at her brother’s equally sweaty brow. 

“Oh shove it,” Jacob grumbled. The heat had not made him any more agreeable.

“I just think that maybe next time, a taxi would most likely be a better option than walking a mile in a desert. You know, as I suggested?” 

Jacob shot her a look, preferring to stay silent than to admit being wrong. Rosemary shook her head ruefully at his stubbornness; it was that family trait that had made the dinner last night derail. 

“I think we’re close anyway,” Jacob huffed, looking at the map he had been consulting the entire walk. “The map says we’re on the right street. The directions said to look for the Pharaoh's door. Is that some kind of riddle?” 

Rosemary looked up and down the brown-tiled buildings. The street looked the same as all the ones they had passed, no abandoned buildings that could serve a wizard inn. As her eyes raked over the street, a glint of color caught her eye on an arch above a quiet alleyway. 

“I think it’s here,” Rosemary said, peering down the empty alleyway. It didn’t look like anything special, but Rosemary didn’t expect it to. “Look, that’s the pharaoh!” There was a small carving of a pharaoh hieroglyphic emblazoned at the top of the stone archway. For a second, it flashed with vivid colors as if it had been painted only seconds ago. 

“Finally!” Jacob groaned, ducking quickly into the alleyway through the stone archway. As soon as he passed through, he disappeared with a shimmer. 

It was a well-cast enchantment to repel Muggles from entering accidentally, making the alleyway the most boring place on Earth to walk through if you didn’t have a magical eye. After checking to make ensure there were no lingering Muggles watching, Rosemary followed her brother through the arch. 

The air shimmered around her and Rosemary felt a wave of coolness rush through her body as she eased through the arch. In a split second, she was standing at the entrance of a resplendent oasis veranda. Filled with lush and leafy exotic plants and beautiful mosaic tilework, Rosemary felt as if she had accidentally stepped into paradise. On the far side of the courtyard wall, a waterfall rushed torrentially down the brickwork and evaporated as soon as it hit the floor. Jacob was grinning a few feet away from her as he surveyed the inn alongside her. 

“Wow, Gringotts doesn’t cheap out do they?” Jacob sighed contentedly. “Even the heat died down.” 

The stifling heat from the street had transformed into a warm and pleasant wind that only added to the experience of the garden.

“That Merlin for that,” Rosemary sighed. “I don’t think I’ve ever sweat so much in my life.” 

“I suppose we should check-in?” Jacob asked. “I think that’s the entrance.” He pointed to a bronze sign that said ‘entrance’ that hung over a set of double doors. 

“Maybe we should try the one that says exit first,” Rosemary said with a raised eyebrow. Jacob only scowled at her teasing, flicking their trunks aloft with his wand before opening the doors that led into the lobby. 

The inn was quaint and homey with low smooth stone walls that made Rosemary feel as if they were actually inside a pyramid, which she guessed had influenced the name of the place. The low light of the lanterns filled the room with a warm softness that made Rosemary feel rested and comfortable like had just woken up from a very satisfactory nap. Rosemary sighed happily. 

“Mind you, I don’t think we’ll be here very long,” Jacob said to Rosemary after seeing the pleased expression on her face. “From what the goblins said, we’ll be heading out to the dig site tomorrow morning.” 

“As long as I get a bath and a good night’s sleep I’m happy,” Rosemary said cheerfully. 

On the front desk, a bronze call bell sat next to a sign that said ‘Press For Attendance’. Jacob pushed down on the button a few times to announce their arrival. 

A middle-aged witch materialized behind the desk only a half-seconds later, greeting Jacob and Rosemary with a genial smile. She was an extraordinarily beautiful woman, statuesque with tawny skin and dark eyes. Rosemary watched Jacob’s eyes widen as he took in the sight of their host. Rosemary elbowed him discreetly in the ribs as the innkeeper spoke. 

“Welcome to The Pharaoh's Inn. Are you checking in?” 

“Yes,” Jacob replied breathlessly. “Two _singles_ for Woodward,” he emphasized. The witch nodded and waved her wand, conjuring a heavy ledger book from the air. 

“Of course,” she replied, thumbing through the pages until she found their names on her list. “Rosemary and Jacob, Rooms 212 and 211. Right across from each other.” Two brass keys came floating from the pegs at the front desk, each one landing in Rosemary and Jacob’s outstretched hands. “I am Mistress Dahlia.” the woman said with a smile, as she pointed her wand at Rosemary and Jacob’s trunks, and they rose gently side-by-side up a set of stairs to their left. “I hope you will enjoy your stay here.” 

“You will be on the second floor up those stairs,” Mistress Dahlia offered, gesturing up to the staircase where their trunks had just disappeared. “This first floor is the dining room and the bar, just through the doorway there, and a few sitting parlors for the guests to use at will are to your right.” 

“Is it near suppertime?” Jacob asked hopefully, craning his neck to look past Mistress Dahlia to look through to the dining room. 

“Not yet I’m afraid, but we’re only about half an hour away until it’s ready,” Mistress Dahlia said sorrily. “You’re welcome to sit with your friend until it begins however, he has been very eager for your arrival.” 

“Our friend?” Rosemary asked. 

“Yes, your redheaded friend, Mr. Weasley,” Mistress Dahlia answered. “He’s in the second parlor room down the hall to your right.” 

“Bill’s here?” Rosemary asked Jacob excitedly. “I thought you said we’d meet him at the site!”

Jacob shrugged. “That’s what I thought too.” 

“Why don’t the pair of you go and say hello,” Mistress Dahlia offered. “I’ll send some to come and get you once dinner hour begins.”

“That would be wonderful,” Rosemary said gratefully. “Thank you very much!” 

“Yes, thank you,” Jacob added eagerly, clearly still trying to impress on the landlady. Mistress Dahlia gestured towards the hallway before disappearing into the dining room. 

“I’m pretty sure she’s married Jacob,” Rosemary smirked as soon as the innkeeper had glided away out of earshot. Jacob was still staring at the retreating figure.

“A man can dream,” Jacob sighed wistfully.

“Dream with your head, not your eyes,” Rosemary teased with a reproachful tone. Jacob shook his head like a wet dog trying to shake the water off of his fur. 

“Right,” Jacob muttered under his breath. “Respectful.” 

“Come on, dummy,” Rosemary said, rolling her eyes and pulling her brother by the arm down the hallway. They stopped in front of the door marked ‘Parlor Room Two’. 

“I suppose this is it,” Rosemary paused. “Should we knock?” It was Jacob’s turn to roll his eyes before turning the doorknob.

The sitting room was just as cozy as the rest of the inn. A fire crackled merrily in the hearth, surrounded by several cozy chairs and side tables.

And sitting in one of the chairs staring at the fire intently was a redheaded man. 

“Bill!” 

The eldest Weasley looked up with a broad smile, straightening up from his seat to greet them.

Rosemary threw her arms around the Curse-Breaker with joy. Bill laughed as they wrapped their arms around each other, and he lifted off her feet with the force of his bear hug.

Rosemary squealed as she felt her feet leave the ground. “Bill! Let me down!”

“If you insist,” Bill chuckled in her ear. He dropped Rosemary back down hard onto the weathered mosaic tiles with a chortle. 

“Oof—” Rosemary huffed at the impact. “That hurt!” 

“Thought you would have toughened up by now, Curse-Breaker,” Bill grinned. “Not much point in going into the pyramids if you’re going to be out of commission at the first bump in the plan.”

Rosemary shot her friend a dirty look. “I reckon that I’ve seen double the action you have Bill Weasley,” she objected with narrowed eyes. “I think you’ve gotten soft facing the same old mummies every day.”

“I’m willing to take that bet,” Bill smiled. “I supposed we’re going to have to swap some war stories,” he mused. 

Jacob interrupted brusquely. “I’m willing to take that bet too.” 

“Jacob,” Bill greeted him carefully. Jacob had never been the biggest fan of the two eldest Weasley brothers. As irritating as Jacob and Rosemary could be to each other when Rosemary had burst into tears over breakfast after reading Charlie’s letter, her brother had threatened to curse Charlie into oblivion in retaliation. Only Rosemary’s pleading had stopped him from Apparating to the Burrow right then and there. His intense distaste for Charlie had bled over to Bill during their last trip to Egypt, and the Curse-Breaking pissing contest that two had happened to enter together hadn’t helped that relationship progress at all. 

Jacob extended a hand that Bill took cordially, although Rosemary had a sneaking suspicion that the handshake was a little too firm to be completely friendly. The three of them settled into the chairs facing the fireplace, although Rosemary noticed that Bill kept his eyes on the doorway.

Sitting down, Rosemary took a good look at Bill. Tall and lanky, his hair was as long and vividly red as ever. She hadn't seen her friend in over a year, since the last time Jacob and Rosemary had come to Egypt. He looked older now of course, older than Jacob even though her brother was seven years older than Bill. His leather wardrobe—common for most Curse-Breakers—had already been in place the last time they had seen each other, but there was a surprising new addition to his rock star appearance.

“You got an earring!” Rosemary noticed with shock. A long, white fang dangled prominently from his right ear. Bill blushed. 

“I got it a couple of months ago,” Bill explained. “Mum just about fainted when she saw it, but she got used to it as well as one could hope.” 

“Has she seen it?” Rosemary asked questioningly. “I thought you hadn’t been back to Britain since Christmas.” 

“Well yes,” Bill said haltingly, with the expression of someone aware that he said something he shouldn’t have. “I haven’t been back.” 

He kept going. “I know you haven’t been hearing much news from Britain since you’ve been in Peru, but Dad ended up winning the Daily Prophet Draw this year.”

“Bill that’s wonderful!” Rosemary gasped happily, but she was still confused by the apprehensive look on Bill’s face. _He almost looks scared_ , Rosemary thought to herself. “We hadn’t heard anything about that!” 

“I’d guessed,” Bill said apprehensively. “And I—uh, I think I should have told you sooner but they decided to use the money to come to spend a month here in Egypt.”

“Your family is here?” Rosemary asked with surprise. She narrowed her eyes, suspicious at Bill’s nerves. “Your parents and the little ones?” 

Rosemary knew Bill could hear the real question in her tone. He grimaced. 

“Yes, they’re here,” Bill responded slowly. “It’s a family trip; that’s why I am staying at the inn.” 

Rosemary’s nerves eased a little. Her mind was racing. It was just his parents and the younger siblings, surely that wouldn’t be so bad. A little awkward no doubt, but not together unbearable. Hadn’t Rosemary wanted to check-in on Ginny after Bill wrote to her about what had happened to her? Besides, Bill would have said something beforehand if _he_ was going to be here. 

“It’ll be wonderful to see them,” Rosemary said warmly, putting any suspicious thoughts aside. “I think your Mum may be cross with me though; it’s been a little too long since I’ve been to visit.” 

“How long are they staying for?” Jacob asked. “I thought we were heading to the dig site tomorrow.” Rosemary was struck with the mental image of trying to wrangle Fred and George in an unexplored, unfamiliar pyramid and shuddered slightly. 

“We are,” Bill assured him. “It’s their last day.” 

“So soon?” Rosemary asked sadly. “It really has been a long time since I’ve seen your family.”

“Term starts in a week,” Jacob reminded her. “I suppose the kids have to go and get their Hogwarts things?” 

Bill nodded in assent, still looking nervous. “Don’t worry, Mum and Dad are expecting the pair of you. I’m sure they’ll insist on sitting down for dinner together.”

“It must have been an enjoyable month,” Rosemary smiled. “With almost the whole family together here.” 

“The whole family,” Bill corrected quietly.

“What?” The pit in Rosemary’s stomach returned, and her chest felt the queer sensation of being kicked very suddenly by a rampaging hippogriff. 

At that moment, Bill’s head snapped up to the doorway where a familiar voice spoke. 

“Bill, Mum wants us to sit down toge—” The voice froze in mid-sentence, and for a second the room sat still.

The blood drained from Rosemary’s body. It couldn’t be, it wasn’t, but she had to turn around, she had to make sure—

But it was him. There in the doorway, frozen in shock stood Charlie. 

Charlie, with damp red hair, tucked behind his ears. 

Charlie, with stubble on his jaw that hadn’t been there three years ago. 

Charlie, with a deep scar above his eyebrow, that Rosemary didn’t remember, and burns littering his arms. 

Charlie, who was staring straight at her with an expression close to horror on his face. 

Rosemary felt herself spring from her seat, an action so involuntary that she felt as if she had been placed under an Imperious Curse. They were silent as they gazed at each other with such intensity that it made Rosemary feel faint. 

“Rosemary?” 

Charlie said her name questioningly, and Rosemary knew that he too had not been expecting this encounter. His voice was deeper than Rosemary remembered; there was a husky note to it that hadn’t been there the summer after Hogwarts. 

The sound of his voice was overwhelming. Even more overwhelming than the sight of him, because now Rosemary knew he was real. 

“Charlie.” 

Rosemary tried to hide the tremble from her voice as she said his name. It came out almost like a sigh. 

He looked so different. Taller, wider too. More of a man than the boy she remembered.

Bill spoke, breaking Rosemary’s trance. “Rosemary and Jacob came to help us in the pyramids, Charlie,” Bill said nervously. 

“Oh,” Charlie responded falteringly, looking away from Rosemary at his brother. “I didn’t know that.” He raked a hand through his hair; it was a nervous gesture that Rosemary remembered well from each time they were going to sit for exams or during that final year at Hogwarts when only the sight of him had made Rosemary lightheaded. 

Jacob stood up next to Rosemary, his jaw set in anger. 

“Charlie,” Jacob seethed, saying his name as harshly as if he was saying a curse. “I didn’t know you were allowed to leave Romania or did they finally give you a day off after two years? 

Charlie blinked as he registered Jacob’s words, and his face twisted in a grimace. Jacob didn’t attempt to try to hide the accusation. 

“I suppose there wasn’t much time to travel during my apprenticeship,” he answered tightly. Rosemary felt a knife twist in her gut at his words, and Jacob gave a snort of derision. 

“I must have forgotten how long Portkey travel takes. I could have sworn my last one only took a few seconds,” Jacob retorted mockingly. Charlie’s eyes flashed as he looked between Jacob and Rosemary, and Rosemary found herself unable to look at her anymore. Instead, she focused her eyes past him, as if Charlie was made from cellophane instead of the all too present flesh and blood. 

Bill laughed loudly and he clapped Jacob on the back, guffawing as if he had told the funniest joke he’d ever heard. 

“Jacob, you’ve had the luck of being your own boss. The rest of us have to ask for vacation days!”

Jacob glowered and shook Bill’s hand off his shoulder. His hand twitched slightly, and Rosemary knew that he was fighting the urge to jinx Charlie from across the room. 

“Jacob,” Rosemary pleaded warningly under her breath. She could feel Charlie’s eyes snap back to her, but she ignored him. She placed a pleading hand on her brother, trying to speak with her eyes instead of her voice. 

Jacob looked back at Rosemary for a second before sighing resignedly. The Weasley brothers looked at each other with confusion at the silent exchange. 

The four of them stood awkwardly for a few moments, all of them at a loss of words for the situation they had found themselves in. Rosemary struggled to remain blank and detached, as Jacob glowered darkly, Bill looked on nervously, and Charlie just stared. 

How many times had Rosemary imagined this reunion? Infinite times. That Charlie would come looking for her in Diagon Alley, or Hogsmeade, or anywhere else in the world for that matter. That the world would fall away, and he would take Rosemary in his arms and apologize thousand times over for the hurt he had caused her and beg for her to take him back. And she would, without hesitation and without a doubt. 

Instead, Rosemary was standing here numbly, as still and unfeeling as a statue. An interloper in his vacation with his family and more unwanted than a niffler in a jewelry store. 

“Er, were you saying something, Charlie?” Bill asked, breaking the silence once again. 

“Oh,” Charlie remembered. “Mum wants us to come to sit down for dinner now, she’s worried there won’t be enough seats.”

“Why don’t we all go then,” Bill suggested, looking cautiously at Rosemary. Rosemary nodded stiffly. 

“C’mon Jacob,” Rosemary said stiffly, making her way out the door. “I’m starving.” Jacob nodded, following her closely behind. Charlie stepped backward into the hallway as Rosemary made her way to the doorway, giving her plenty of room to pass without having to come anywhere close to him. She looked straight forward as she walked past, refusing to either look down at the floor or give in to the temptation to stare at Charlie as she passed him. Rosemary could feel his stare as she walked quickly through the hallway; Jacob had to jog to catch up to her. 

“What is he doing here?” Jacob hissed in her ear. Rosemary shrugged silently, hoping to give the impression of nonchalance to oppose Jacob’s fury. She could hear Bill muttering unintelligibly to Charlie behind her; Charlie stayed just as quiet as she did. 

When they arrived in the dining hall, Mistress Dalia welcomed them at the entrance. “Just in time for dinner,” she beamed. Jacob beamed back, the sour look on his face disappearing from his face immediately “The rest of your party is already seated over there,” Mistress Dalia said, gesturing to the table in the corner. Rosemary didn’t need to be led; the seven shockingly red-haired figures were waving frantically from their seats. Rosemary pasted on a smile as she walked towards the Weasley’s, not wanting to show her unease to the rest of the family. 

“Rosemary dear, it’s so good to see you!” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, standing from her seat and rushing forward to give Rosemary a tight hug. “You don’t visit nearly as much as you used to,” she said with a slightly admonishing tone. 

“I’m sorry Mrs. Weasley,” Rosemary apologized as Mrs. Weasley released her. “Jacob and I have been traveling quite a bit for a while. We just got back from Peru last week.” 

“Peru?” Mr. Weasley asked excitedly, having stood up to shake Jacob’s hand. Mrs. Weasley gave Jacob a peck on the cheek while Mr. Weasley clapped Rosemary on the back. “That must have been fascinating; the ancient Incas are one of the most fascinating Muggle civilizations in history!” 

“Rosemary did all the studying,” Jacob said off-handedly. “I just show up to point my wand at things.” 

Rosemary looked down at the dining room table where six redheaded children were looking eagerly up at her. 

“Rosemary!” A small ginger blur tackled Rosemary around the waist, and Ginny wrapped her arms around Rosemary as tightly as Bill and Mrs. Weasley had. “I missed you!” 

“Ginny!” Rosemary exclaimed, smiling broadly at the young girl as she returned the hug. “You’ve grown so much!” 

“Not enough,” Ginny pouted. “Mum says I can’t have new robes yet!”

Rosemary chuckled before the smile slid off her face. “Are you all right?” she asked Ginny with concern, pressing a hand to her forehead as if she was checking her temperature. Ginny blanched, her eyes welling with tears. 

“Y-Yes,” Ginny stuttered, looking down at the floor reticently, not meeting Rosemary’s eyes. “I’m fine now.” 

“Ginny you have nothing to be embarrassed about,” Rosemary assured her quietly. “Bill told me everything and you did absolutely nothing wrong; this isn’t the first time You-Know-Who has taken advantage of someone like this.”

“And she’s all too lucky Harry got her out of that Chamber!” Mrs. Weasley announced loudly, sending Ginny skittering back to her seat. “She could have _died_ down there!” Mrs. Weasley lost the color from her face, sinking down in her chair wearily with the thought. Ginny blushed furiously. 

“Mum I was there too!” Ron insisted, although his voice got lost in the din of the rest of the Weasley party. “Hullo Rosemary,” he added glumly when no one but her turned to look at him. 

“Hi Ron, how are you?” Ron opened his mouth to answer as the twins interjected. 

“Hiya, Rosemary!” Fred and George greeted in unison.

“Come to fight some mummies, Rosemary?” George asked.

“Bill wouldn’t let us into any of the fun pyramids,” Fred complained.

“Sorry, I’m afraid some pyramids are trained wizards only,” Bill teased, taking a seat at the table. “You lot wouldn’t survive five minutes in there.” 

“I’ve read quite a bit about some of the magic Ancient Egyptians used in preparation for the trip,” Percy sniffed indignantly. “I’d like to believe I would fare much better than my younger siblings.” Percy stood up to shake Rosemary’s hand. “Hello Rosemary, it is very nice to see you again,” he said solemnly. The twins exchanged sniggering looks. 

“It’s very nice to see you again as well Percy,” Rosemary chuckled. 

“I reckon Ron’s seen double the action you have Perce, and he’s only thirteen,” Charlie added, smacking Percy’s head lightly as he took a seat next to Bill. Charlie avoided looking at Rosemary now.“I think he’d have the best chance out of all of us.” Percy scowled. 

“Yes, thank you, Charlie!” Ron proclaimed triumphantly. “That’s what I have been trying to say!” 

“Of course Ron dear,” Mrs. Weasley said soothingly. Ron looked crestfallen, and Rosemary noticed the sympathetic look Charlie gave him.

“Take a seat Rosemary, Jacob,” Mr. Weasley offered. Jacob and Rosemary exchanged an apprehensive glance.

“We couldn’t intrude on your last night here like that,” Rosemary said hesitantly. She didn’t think she could make it an entire dinner with Charlie across the table from her. 

“Oh, nonsense!” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, ushering Jacob and Rosemary into the two empty seats. “We've been looking forward to seeing you ever since Bill told us you were coming!” 

“You knew they were staying here?” Charlie asked sharply. The table fell silent as the other ten people at the table looked wide-eyed between Charlie and Rosemary. Rosemary felt the blood rush heavy to her cheeks

“Well yes,” Mr. Weasley paused. “Bill said he wanted it to be a surprise, but we assumed…ahhh….” He trailed off as he looked over at his wife, who was shooting him a warning look that Rosemary could decipher to mean ‘stop talking immediately’. 

Mistress Dahlia mercifully provided them with a welcome distraction. “Sugarcane juice?” she offered, holding flagons of the drink aloft with her wand. 

“Yes, please!” Mrs. Weasley said eagerly, plucking one of the pitchers from the air. “I think we’re all famished from the day we had!”

“Were you in the pyramids?” Jacob asked, both driving the conversation to the ruins and steering the conversion to another topic. Mr. Weasley answered eagerly. 

“Yes, Bill showed us quite a few excavated ones, just _fascinating_ how Ancient wizards lived so drastically different to anything we’re used to….” 

Dinner continued more easily after that, with the rest of the Weasley family and Jacob carrying most of the conversation. Rosemary and Charlie both stayed quiet for the most part, with Rosemary studiously determined to look anywhere but his face. 

How long had it been she had seen him? 

* * *

It was late August, two years previous. 

“Are we almost there?” Rosemary squirmed uncomfortably. Charlie’s hands were clasped over her eyes, and she could feel his warm breath tickling her ear. 

“Almost,” Charlie insisted, guiding her carefully down a small slope. “We’re close, I promise.” 

“You know, you could have just put a blindfold on me, then you wouldn’t have to walk behind me,” Rosemary pointed out. 

“That would just take away from the effect,” Charlie argued. “I’m being romantic!” 

“I think you just didn’t think of it,” Rosemary giggled. The lack of response from Charlie told Rosemary she was right and she laughed again. 

“If you don’t stop, I’m not going to show you,” Charlie warned. “It’s very good, and you’ll miss it!” 

“Okay, okay,” Rosemary soothed. “I’ll behave.” Charlie snorted amusedly. 

“That’ll be a first.” 

“Hey!” Rosemary said indignantly. “That was rude!” Charlie kissed the back of her head, and they came to a sudden stop. 

“Don’t worry, all will be forgiven once you see this,” he said in her ear. “Keep your eyes closed!” 

Charlie let go of her, and Rosemary indulged his request to keep her eyes shut. She heard the tinkling of plates and silverware, and the sound of something flapping in the air. After a few minutes, Charlie took her hand.

“Does that mean I can open my eyes?” Rosemary asked.

“Yes you may,” Charlie assented. Rosemary giggled again at his earnestness. She opened her eyes. 

“Oh Charlie!” she gasped with delight. 

“Do you like it?” Charlie asked nervously, raking a hand through his hair.

They were standing in the cool shade of a tree, whose branches hung over the banks of a stream that was running cheerfully through the glade Charlie had brought her to. He had unpacked the mysterious pack he had brought as well, unearthing blankets and a picnic basket overflowing with all of Rosemary’s favorite treats. 

“Charlie, it’s perfect!” Charlie’s ears turned red with the compliment. Rosemary pulled him towards her, holding her hands against his cheeks. Charlie bent his face down to kiss her softly, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist as she deepened their kiss eagerly. 

“I haven’t even shown you the best part yet,” he grinned after they separated. Charlie pulled her towards the tree, pointing out a hollow tree knot in its trunk. 

“Is that a nest?” Rosemary questioned curiously. Charlie nodded.

“And look what’s inside,” Charlie offered. “Be careful though. They’re wild.” Rosemary peered cautiously into the tree trunk. 

Inside were several spindly green creatures, hovering protectively around several tiny brown eggs.“Are those bowtruckles?” Rosemary gasped quietly. 

“And their eggs,” Charlie whispered excitedly. “I think they’re due to hatch today. I thought you might have wanted to see.” 

Charlie pulled out a glass jar from his pocket; inside crawled several brown insects. “Woodlice,” he explained, shaking the jar slightly. “There’s bowtruckles all over the tree.” He shook out some of the woodlice onto one of the tree boughs, and more and more bowtruckles began to descend slowly from the leaves. 

“It’s a whole branch,” Rosemary said in wonder. 

“Have you noticed what kind of tree it is?” Charlie asked quietly. Rosemary looked up at the tree leaves, and her eyes welled with tears as she realized. 

“It’s a rowan,” Rosemary whispered shakily, a tear falling on her cheek. Charlie wrapped his arms around her, and they stood quietly for a minute under the tree, remembering their lost friend. 

“Let’s let them eat,” Charlie said, pulling her towards the picnic blanket. “We’ll be able to get a little closer later on now when the eggs are hatching.” 

They settled in together; Charlie placed his head on Rosemary’s lap.  
  
“Thank you for this,” Rosemary said, tracing patterns in Charlie’s freckled arms. Charlie smiled warmly up at her. 

“I thought we deserved some time on our own, away from your brother in the storefront or all my siblings back at the Burrow,” Charlie grinned. 

“I don’t mind your siblings,” Rosemary insisted. “Or your mum!” she added with a giggle. Mrs. Weasley had begun to keep a very careful watch on her and Charlie when they spent time together at the Burrow, jumping out at them at very inopportune times. 

“ _I_ mind,” Charlie responded, sitting up. “Around them, I can’t do this.” He kissed her then, a good firm kiss that made Rosemary’s heart melt to somewhere around her knees. She pulled him closer, wrapping her hands into his hair as they fell into the blankets together. 

They were kissing differently this time. Usually, they were careful; with Hogwarts staff, Mrs. Weasley, or Jacob always around the corner it was difficult to relax completely whenever they snuck off to exchange a kiss or two. This time, they both knew they were alone and neither Charlie nor Rosemary were exhibiting much restraint.

Charlie and Rosemary shrugged out of their jackets as they rolled around on the blankets, kissing passionately as they wrapped around each other further.

It was only until Rosemary began fumbling for the button of Charlie’s trousers that he pulled back, wide-eyed. 

“Rosemary?” he asked breathlessly, the concern on his face overweighing the desire. “Are—are you sure?”  
  
Rosemary had thought about this often, even as far back as the first time they kissed in the quiet of an empty corridor after the last Quidditch match of the season. She came to the same conclusion now that she had when returned to her dorm that same night months ago.

There was no one else she trusted—or wanted—more than Charlie. 

“Yes,” Rosemary whispered, and Charlie dipped his head down to kiss her again. 

**. . . . .**

After it was over and Rosemary laid comfortably on Charlie’s bare chest, catching her breath and covered in the second blanket, Rosemary began to giggle to herself. 

“What is it?” Charlie asked curiously, an arm thrown over his eyes to block out the afternoon sun. Rosemary could feel his heart was still skittering like a jackrabbit. 

“I think we might have missed the bowtruckles.” 

* * *

“And of course all this nasty business with Sirius Black…” 

“Sirius Black?” Rosemary asked, snapping her head up to look at Mrs. Weasley, old memories thrown to the side at the mention of the Dark wizard. “What about Sirius Black?” 

“You haven’t heard?” Bill queried. “I thought you must have, it’s all over the news. Our and the Muggles.” 

“We’ve been isolated for a better part of a month,” Jacob scowled. “What happened to Sirius Black?” 

“He escaped,” Mr. Weasley explained seriously, wiping his glasses on his shirt. “Almost a month ago. He escaped from Azkaban.” 

“From Askaban?” Rosemary echoed aghast. “That’s impossible, the dementors would never allow it.” 

“Well Black did it,” Bill said matter of factly. “Dad says the dementors are in an uproar; they’ve never had anyone escape them before.” 

“The bastard’s free?” Jacob asked furiously, his hand trembling slightly “Sorry, Mrs. Weasley,” he added apologetically when he noticed the look on her face. 

“He is indeed,” Mr. Weasley frowned. “No one knows where he is. Everyone should be careful now, there’s no telling what that man is capable of.”

“Oh there’s a few things that he’s capable of,” Jacob replied savagely. Jacob had taken the news of Sirius Black’s betrayal very hard. He had been three years younger than James Potter and his friends during his time and had looked up to all of the older boys during his time at Hogwarts. But Sirius had been Jacob’s idol until he had gotten frozen in the portrait. 

“Fudge is taking every precaution,” Mr. Weasley continued. “Placing dementors up and down the country especially in Hogsmeade and the Hogwarts gates—”

“Dementors at Hogwarts?” Rosemary exclaimed, interrupting again. “Dumbledore would never allow that!” 

“Strong-armed by Fudge more than likely, I reckon,” Bill added.

Jacob snorted in disbelief. “Dumbledore? Strong-armed?”

“Dumbledore knows it’s safer to have the dementors stationed at the school...especially considering what we know.” Mr. Weasley drew short there, very aware of the interested eyes of his five youngest children. “But there is nothing to worry about,” he insisted. “Dumbledore will ensure the dementors don’t overstep their boundaries.” 

“I must say, I don’t enjoy the thought of the Azkaban guards,” Percy said solemnly. “Only the Ministry can really control them, they won’t even listen to us Heads!” He grinned proudly then, shooting Rosemary an eager look. 

“Head Boy,” Rosemary said amusedly, “Congratulations, Percy.” 

“The second one in the family,” Mrs. Weasley gushed. “We’re just _so_ proud.” Rosemary caught the twins in a simultaneous eye roll. “Of course, we would have loved if Charlie had become one too…” 

“But he was too busy chasing after dragons,” Rosemary blurted out irritably, too quickly to stop herself. The table gaped at her with surprise, and Rosemary flushed deeply again before returning her stare to the table. 

“I suppose that must have been it,” Mrs. Weasley said after a moment. “That’s not to say we’re not proud Charlie dear,” she added to her second oldest. “Although I can’t for the life of me understand what your fascination with those beasts is, or why you had to leave all the way to Romania when you had a perfectly good position in Wales available!” 

Rosemary felt her stomach sink. Mrs. Weasley had just spoken aloud the question that Rosemary had asked herself almost every day for the last two years. 

She snuck a look at Charlie then, daring to glance at him for the first time during the meal. His face was flushed so deeply that she could hardly see the freckles that peppered his face and arms. His hair had dried during the meal and curled loosely over his ears. He was looking down at his plate, a fork clenched tightly between his fingers. Mrs. Weasley had touched a nerve, and Rosemary could guess what that nerve was. 

Charlie’s eyes moved upwards, and Rosemary felt a thump in her heart as their gaze connected. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3! I'm really happy with how this chapter came out; it's definitely a little longer than expected. Please leave comments, I would really love to hear them! Follow my tumblr @penandlily for extra content! 
> 
> Notes:  
> -Bill is a sneaky one; he definitely set this up on purpose, but we won't find out why until later.  
> -Charlie and Rosemary we're romantically entwined for quite a while, longer than Ginny and Harry were the first time around.  
> -I felt a little icky writing anything more mature/explicit for the Charlie and Rosemary flashback scene. They're supposed to be seventeen there. Any other sex scenes will have much more detail than that though.  
> -Don't worry, Charlie isn't going anywhere. Things haven't gotten nearly as romantic-tensiony as possible yet.  
> -Next week: The night continues and we get out first Charlie POV!


	4. Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner wraps up, and Charlie lets us in his head for a little while.

Chapter Four 

  
Dinner had wrapped up without any other mentions of Charlie and his dragons. Rosemary thought that Mrs. Weasley had perhaps realized that she had stepped on a minefield conversation topic, and had instead quickly changed the subject to Bill and their upcoming expedition into the pyramids. 

“I do hope you’ll be careful Bill, dear,” Mrs. Weasley sighed with distress. “Even the empty pyramids you showed us were positively terrifying at some points!” Bill sighed heavily at his mother’s familiar fretting. 

“Mum, I’ve been a Curse-Breaker for four years. You’d think I’d know what I was doing by now,” he pointed out. “Besides, we have a good team going in. You haven’t seen Jacob and Rosemary in action; they’re deadly put together.”

Rosemary smiled slightly at the compliment while Jacob huffed irritably under his breath. 

“Not deadly enough to get the gold last time around,” he complained, still sore over their failure during their last Egyptian trip. 

“Have you been here before?” Ginny piped up at her mother’s elbow. “Bill didn’t tell us!” Rosemary looked over suspiciously at Bill who had begun to examine his fingernails with much interest.

“I may have forgotten to mention it,” Bill muttered, shooting a look towards Charlie, who Rosemary noticed had placed a decidedly blase expression on his face.

“We came a little over a year ago, right Jacob?” Rosemary told Ginny. “We barely got out with our heads still attached,” she added. “But,” she said, backtracking carefully as she noticed the alarm in Mrs. Weasley’s expression. “We weren’t as prepared then! We’ve done a lot more research this time around, and we have more experience, haven’t we Jacob?” 

Jacob nodded in agreement, giving Bill a sly grin. “Don’t worry Mrs. Weasley,” he told her blithely. “I’m sure between Rosemary and me we can get Bill out with only a few scratches.” Bill rolled his eyes at Jacob’s dig. 

“I could have sworn you were the one who got himself trapped in that sandpit last time,” Bill interjected with a grin. “Do you remember, Jacob? The ones I specifically told you to watch out for?” Jacob bristled indignantly next to Rosemary, and he opened his mouth to retort hotly before a swift elbow to the ribs from Rosemary drew him short. 

“Play nice,” she mouthed to him. There was no stopping Jacob once he got going, and Rosemary would rather not enter a dangerous ruin tomorrow afternoon with two cranky and squabbling Curse-Breakers. 

“We’ve all had our fair share of fiascoes, Bill. It’s the nature of the job.” Rosemary pointed out. “You know that better than anyone.” 

“So do you,” Jacob snorted. Jacob was never one to lose a chance to embarrass her. “Tell them about Transylvania,” he added, shooting Charlie a sharp look from across the table. Charlie’s head snapped up again. 

“You were in Romania?” Charlie asked Rosemary tautly. It was the first words they had spoken to each other aside from the uneasy greetings they had exchanged in the parlor room. 

“Very briefly last winter,” she responded icily. “We were hired to deal with a vampire problem,” Charlie said nothing in response.

“A vampire problem?” Mr. Weasley asked interestingly. “I’ve never met one before! Did you find it?” 

Rosemary blushed furiously. “More like it found us.” 

“She was seduced!” Jacob crowed loudly to the table, much to Rosemary’s embarrassment. Other diners nearby looked curiously over to their table at Jacob’s exclamation. Rosemary shot her brother a dirty look, which he had the audacity to ignore. 

“Oh my,” Mrs. Weasley said breathlessly, giving Rosemary a nervous look. She no doubt had a mental image of Rosemary swooning over a silk bed with a pale and handsome man poised over her neck. The man was indeed pale, but handsome he was not and there were definitely no silk beds involved. 

“He’s exaggerating, Mrs. Weasley,” Rosemary assured her. “It caught me unawares is all, compelled me before I realized what he was. We didn’t expect him to be so close to town, and Jacob and I had separated.” The rest of the table was giving Rosemary wide-eyed looks. “Their compulsion is very strong!” she added defensively. 

“Did’ ya end up getting bit, Rosemary?” George asked eagerly. 

“Did it hurt?” Fred added, his eyebrows wagging mischievously.

“Fred, George, that’s enough,” their father said warningly. He paused. “We’re all just as curious,” he added with a sideways glance at Rosemary. 

Rosemary sighed and pulled down the collar of her shirt, exposing the two raised puncture marks on the side of her neck. She ran a finger over the bumps on her throat, trying to sift through the dim memories of the vampire attack. “I don’t remember much actually. I’d lost over a liter of blood before Jacob found me.” The rest of the table was looking at Rosemary with wide eyes as she finished. 

“She was so pale. I thought she was dead,” Jacob shuddered. “That part wasn’t as funny.” 

“I couldn’t even get the stupid marks off, thanks to the vampire venom,” Rosemary grumbled. “But at least I’m not a vampire,” she added cheerily, trying to lighten the mood at the suddenly serious table. “Or dead.”

“Curse-Breakers!” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed irritably. “Is there really so much enjoyment in risking your necks anytime you have to go to work?” 

“Don’t worry Mother,” Percy interjected loftily. “Some of your sons are aiming their sights at much more stable careers.” Jacob, Bill, and Charlie all rolled their eyes in a surprising moment of unity at Percy’s declaration.

“I kind of like the idea of Curse-Breaking,” Ron said as he took another bite of his dessert. 

“Me too!” Ginny chimed in eagerly. “It sounds exciting!” 

“The only ‘idea’ the pair of you are getting any time soon is bed,” Mrs.Weasley said sternly. “We have a long day tomorrow and I don’t want the pair of you griping about not getting enough sleep. And the same goes for you two!” she said nodding at Fred and George. The complaints started almost immediately. 

“Aw, Mum...” 

“...But Rosemary’s here!” 

“...It’s not even ten yet!” 

“...Percy gets to stay up!”   
  
“Listen to your mother,” Mr. Weasley said over the sound of his children’s complaining. You all need baths and to finish packing. We’re leaving early tomorrow and you won't have time to finish it then.”

“I’ll be up tomorrow morning to see you off,” Rosemary said consolingly to a pouting Ginny. “And I’ll come and see you during your next school break, I promise.” 

The children got up from the table with the scraping of chairs, muttering, and choruses of ‘good nights’. Percy wandered off after them as well, muttering something about ‘needing to write to Penelope’, a detail that made Jacob snigger. 

“Wonder what poor girl would be willing to put up with all that,” he whispered aside to Rosemary, nodding towards Percy’s retreating figure. 

“Well,” Mr. Weasley yawned. “I suppose I should turn in as well Molly, I’m wiped.” He stood up and stretched out tiredly. “It’s very nice to see you again Rosemary, Jacob.” 

Mrs. Weasley stood up to follow her husband and gave Rosemary a gentle pat on the cheek. “It is so wonderful to see you again, Rosemary dear.” 

The four remaining people at the table fell quiet as Mrs. Weasley walked away, all acutely aware of the awkwardness that had alighted among them. 

“I think I’m going to turn in as well,” Rosemary announced in a tone too brittle to be casual. “Busy morning. Good night all.” She straightened up from her seat, accidentally catching Charlie’s eye for what felt like the hundredth time that night. 

The look on his face was so inscrutable that Rosemary was sorely tempted to try Legilimency under her breath as she left, but she had a sinking suspicion that would lead to a lot more pain than she could handle. 

Merlin help her, Rosemary was so tired of feeling this way. She had spent months and years feeling like a piece of rubbish, easily discarded when something better came along. What was so special about him anyway? Every reason she had loved Charlie back then was a lie: he had proven that when he left Rosemary the way he did. No good man would have done that. 

She thought back onto the memories of their time together that had filled her mind during dinner. There was nothing left of that boy in the man here in front of her. Nothing of the boy who used to kiss her forehead so sweetly when she was upset…. 

Rosemary groaned internally. Enough was enough; she was acting the fool over someone who had discarded her long ago. Any second left wallowing in memories and sorrows was a second wasted from living her life. She was not going to allow him to hurt her any more than he already had. Pushing her chair firmly into place she met Charlie’s eyes again purposefully, this time refusing to recoil away before walking away and out of the door.

  
* * * * *  
Charlie  
* * * * * 

Merlin help him; she was here. 

She was here and she had seen him and she had hated him just like he knew she would. 

Rosemary. 

The voice in Charlie’s head spoke her name with reverence, and with so much heartbreak that it threatened to break him. 

She was so beautiful. 

She was older now, of course, no longer the seventeen-year-old he had thought of so often on nights he couldn’t sleep. Her deep black hair was longer, but her eyes were just as blue. When she and Jacob stood next to each other, they could be twins with how similarly striking they looked. 

Her voice was almost the same, a little deeper and infinitely more hardened than Charlie had ever heard it. He had savored the moments when she had spoken to anyone else because it meant that her voice had filled with the warmth that Charlie had once taken for granted.

He was going to kill Bill. 

He watched Rosemary walk away from the table, her shoulders tense as she left the dining room. As much as Charlie had imagined what seeing her again would like, he wasn’t prepared for the icy disdain that poured off of her whenever he accidentally caught her eye.

Shame washed over Charlie. It was his own damn fault that things were like this. There was no one else to blame but himself for his sheer stupidity. He couldn’t even blame Bill, as much as he would like to. 

Charlie was the one chosen to leave, and he was the idiot who had chosen to leave like that. 

On the opposite side of the spectrum, Jacob hadn’t stopped shooting him dirty looks the entire dinner, and Charlie was fairly certain he would have hexed him by now if it were only them in the room.

Bill looked awkwardly between Charlie and Jacob with the same expression he had on his face the entire dinner as if he had been waiting for an Erumpent horn to explode. 

“I’m getting a drink,” Jacob announced pushing himself up from the table. “Gentlemen.” He looked straight at Charlie as he stood, leaning forwards and speaking lowly. “Stay away from my sister, or I’ll hang you from your toes and feed you to one of your dragons.” 

Charlie kept level with Jacob’s eyes, refusing to flinch away. “I’m leaving tomorrow Jacob,” he responded evenly. Pain flashed through him; there was nothing he could do but stay away from Rosemary. He wouldn’t risk putting her through a night like this, especially not around his mother who was probably dancing for joy back in her room at the idea of having Rosemary back in the family. His mistakes were his to bear, alone. 

“Good,” Jacob snarled. If the situation hadn’t been so utterly gut-wrenching, Charlie would have been impressed with Jacob’s fervent defense of his sister. 

“C’mon Charlie,” Bill said, standing up and tugging on Charlie’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“Go ahead, Charlie,” Jacob spit out. “Leave again.” 

“Jacob,” Bill cautioned. “Enough.” He pulled harder on Charlie’s arm, but Charlie shook him off. He deserved this and worse. 

“You don’t tell me what is or isn’t enough, Weasley,” said Jacob, his voice just barely controlled with rage. “I should have cursed your brother into oblivion when I had the chance two years ago. In fact,” he continued whipping his wand out and pointing it at Charlie’s chest. “I have half a mind to do so right now.”

Bill had his wand out and pointed at Jacob so quickly that Charlie barely had time to blink. “Jacob, I don’t want to do this here, but I won’t let you hurt my brother.”

“But this…this cretin is allowed to hurt my sister?!” Jacob sputtered loudly, catching the attention of the other inn patrons who were still in the dining room. “To hell with that!” 

“Gentlemen,” Mistress Dahlia interjected, appearing suddenly at Jacob’s elbow. “I apologize, but I’m going to have to ask the three of you to settle down. There are other guests in the dining room.” She smiled pleasantly, but the warning came across clearly under her calm countenance.

“Apologies Mistress Dahlia,” Jacob said politely, smoothly pocketing his wand. Charlie was reminded of Rosemary and Jacob’s Spanish blue blood in Jacob’s suddenly genteel speech. “I seem to have lost my temper.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Woodward.” Mistress Dahlia said with a note of relief. “I’m afraid we had to institute a ‘no dueling’ rule due to some unfortunate incidents at the inn, or else I would be happy to let you continue to resolve whatever dispute has arisen.”

“Of course,” Bill said, putting his wand away as well. “Come on, Charlie.” He tugged on Charlie’s arm a third time, and this time Charlie allowed his brother to drag him out of the dining room.

Charlie felt his anger bubbling over the closer he and Bill got closer to their shared room. What was Bill playing at, not telling him Rosemary would be here? If it was just to torture him with their continued friendship while Charlie was forced to watch, then Charlie’s brother was capable of a lot more nastiness than he had given Bill credit for.

 _He deserves it a whole lot more than you_ , said the little voice in Charlie’s mind. _Deserves_ her _a whole lot more_. Charlie shook his head, punch-drunk from the emotional blows of the night. If that’s what Rosemary wanted...then that’s what Rosemary should have. She was the one who truly deserved it. 

Charlie opened their door forcefully, with Bill falling closely behind. Bill pushed the door shut behind him as they entered the room. 

“What the hell are you on about?” Charlie hissed, rounding on Bill as soon as the door clicked shut. Bill held up his hands cautiously, taking a step back. 

“I thought it would work out better if I didn’t tell you,” Bill retorted. He sighed heavily, stretching himself out onto one of the beds. Charlie stayed standing. 

“Bollocks,” Charlie said furiously. “You knew I would have left yesterday if you had told me she was coming.” He paced back and forth, too anxious to stand or sit still. 

“True,” Bill admitted, and Charlie was furious at his air of nonchalance. “I suppose it was my way of making sure you stuck around.” Charlie whipped around to look at his older brother. 

“You have some nerve, Bill,” Charlie seethed. “Throwing it in my face like this, like you won some kind of prize. She’s not a trophy!” 

“Will you calm down, you idiot?” Bill said with a roll of his eyes. “Rosemary and I are not dating.” 

“I know you aren’t dating,” Charlie snarled. “I’m talking about the fact that you still get to speak to her like you're a human being instead of like a piece of dog mess stuck to the bottom of her shoe!” 

Bill was quiet for a moment. “That wasn’t my intention.” 

“Then what was your intention?” Charlie spat at him. Bill looked at him, so unusually solemn that he looked like Percy for a moment.

“I was wrong,” he said finally. 

“What in the devil are you talking about?” Charlie asked, combing a hand through his hair in frustration. 

“That day, when I came to visit home after your graduation…” Bill paused. “I was wrong.” Charlie stared at his brother with shock. “Dad was right. It wasn’t my place to say or do what I did, and I’m sorry.” 

Charlie felt like someone had punched him solidly in the gut. “Are you joking?” Charlie asked quietly. 

“No.” 

“So you’re telling me,” Charlie said slowly. “That after everything that happened, two years later you come to me and say ‘just kidding, my bad’?”

“Well, I didn’t say that exactly…okay, okay bad time for a joke,” Bill backtracked after seeing the murderous look Charlie gave him. “I’m trying to right my wrongs here Charlie.” 

“Your wrongs?!” Charlie shouted. “You mean my wrongs! If I had any sense at all, I would have told you to clear off right then and there because apparently it only took you TWO YEARS for you to get over ‘the biggest betrayal of your life’.”

“I was being stupid!” Bill exclaimed, straightening himself from the bed. “I don’t know what else to tell you; I was twenty years old and dying of jealousy and I did something stupid!” 

“I WAS SEVENTEEN, AND I WAS IN LOVE,” Charlie roared. “Did you ever think about that instead of your…your damn ego?!” 

“I know what I did was wrong, but don’t you put this just on me! You were the one who sent her a fucking letter instead of talking to her like a man.”

“You think I don’t know that? Do you think I don’t think about that every goddamn day? But in my defense, I THOUGHT I WAS ABOUT TO LOSE MY BROTHER!” 

Charlie sagged onto his bed, his anger towards Bill dissipating and turning inwards. “What the hell am I supposed to do now?” he asked resignedly, more to himself than to Bill who still answered. 

“This is your chance,” Bill said earnestly. “That’s why I didn’t tell either of you, if you can just talk to her you can still fix this.” 

“Fix what?” Charlie asked miserably. “There’s nothing left to fix. What I did was unforgivable, just look at how she looks at me, Bill.” Bill grimaced. 

“Icy. Even worse than Jacob, and I didn’t think that was possible,” Bill said, smiling weakly and nudging Charlie in the ribs. Charlie didn’t respond. 

“Mate…” Bill hesitated. “Charlie, if I could take it back, I would.” 

Charlie sighed. “I know. I would too.” 

* * *

**Late August, two years ago.**

Charlie was pretty sure he was glowing. 

He and Rosemary walked slowly together, hand in hand as they made their way back to the Burrow. They had scrambled up together when they realized how close to dusk it had gotten next to the creek, pausing only to check in on the tiny bowtruckles that had begun to emerge from their cracked shells as they left. 

“They were so small,” Rosemary lamented as they spotted the Burrow in the distance. Charlie thought he could see his father home from work sitting on the steps in front of the house. “I hope they’ll be okay; I’d hate for a bird to mistake them for a grasshopper and carry them off.”

“They’ll be fine,” Charlie assured her. “You know how fierce they can get. I’m sure the older bowtruckles will protect them.” He stopped walking just before they hit the last hill up to the Burrow and pulled Rosemary towards him.

Charlie tried to be careful this time, kissing her slowly and deliberately so that she could feel just how much that afternoon had meant to him. It had been the last thing Charlie had been looking for from Rosemary, but when he held her in his arms and she was looking up at him with that expression...there was nowhere else he wanted to be. 

“Come on,” Rosemary grinned up at him when they separated, albeit a little breathlessly. “Mum and Dad are expecting us for dinner; we need to stop by the flat beforehand so I can change.”

Charlie looked down at his tee-shirt and jeans and frowned. “I should probably pop upstairs to change too. Your mum always makes me feel underdressed.” Rosemary laughed lightly.

“She tends to do that.” 

“Will Jacob be there?” Charlie asked as they started walking up the hill together, once again hand in hand. Rosemary’s smile turned downwards. 

“No,” she sighed unhappily. “Dad’s still cross with me as well,” she warned. “So be prepared for a cold shoulder.” Charlie pressed a kiss onto the anxious lines on her forehead. He knew that the Curse-Breaking announcement had not gone well for Rosemary and Jacob, a situation that had caused Rosemary much grief in the past few weeks. 

“It’ll be okay,” he said reassuringly. “They’ll both come around; you know they will.” The frown on Rosemary’s face stayed put.

Rosemary paused as they crested the hill; the house was only a few yards away. The setting sun had turned her skin a warm golden and her eyes seemed to glow from the inside. Charlie had never seen anything so blue; it was like someone had placed two cornflowers on her face. 

She pressed her lips to his quickly and entwined her hands with his. “Charlie, I—”. Rosemary looked away shyly, and Charlie knew what she was going to say when he realized that something had caught her eye by the house. 

“Bill?” 

The figure sitting on the porch stood up. It wasn’t his father who was waiting outside. It was Bill.

“Bill!” Rosemary exclaimed, letting go of Charlie and rushing towards a stony-faced Bill. Charlie felt his stomach twist as she threw her arms over his brother’s shoulders, giving him a tight embrace that Bill returned. 

_Second choice, second choice_ , chanted a small voice in the corner of Charlie’s mind. _Always second choice._

“Rosemary?” Bill asked testily. “What are you doing here?” 

“We went for a hike down to the creek,” Rosemary explained with confusion. She could hear the anger in his voice as well. “Are you all right? I didn’t know you were coming back home so soon.” 

“It was a surprise. I was going to come and see you tomorrow,” Bill said tightly. “Looks like I got one instead.” Charlie ambled over to where Bill and Rosemary stood. 

“Bill,” Charlie greeted coldly. He stretched out his hand, which Bill took tightly. 

“Charlie.” Bill looked down. “Your fly is down.” Charlie and Rosemary flushed simultaneously, and Charlie hurriedly zipped up his pants as Bill looked on irately. 

Rosemary looked between them, her eyebrows knitting together when she noticed how cold their greeting was. “Why don’t you skip coming to mine, Charlie? You should stay here,” Rosemary offered hesitatingly. “I’ll tell my parents that Bill came home, they’ll understand.” 

“I’m coming with you,” Charlie argued. 

“Mum is making dinner,” Bill growled.

“Charlie, it’s okay,” Rosemary insisted. Charlie could tell she knew something was going on. “Stay with your brother. We’ll all go get a drink tomorrow to welcome Bill home.” She gave Bill a fleeting hug before pecking Charlie softly on the lips. “It’s really good to see you Bill; it’ll be nice to have you home for a while. Charlie, I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

Charlie nodded. Rosemary moved back a few paces before waving goodbye and disappearing with a loud crack. 

The brothers yanked out their wands together as soon as she Disapparated. They spoke at the same time. 

“You have some nerve—” 

“You back-stabbing prick—” 

They circled each other, each eyeing the other venomously. 

“I always knew you were a jealous little bastard, but I didn’t think you’d stoop that low,” Bill hissed. 

“I’m the jealous one?” Charlie retorted astonishedly. “You’re the one who’s about just about pissing himself with envy.” Bill sent a flash of white light towards Charlie that hit his shoulder. 

“Agh!” Charlie cried out, the Stinging Jinx bubbling under his skin like his arm had been rubbed with nettle. “Are you mad?” he bellowed at Bill.

“Boys, what on Earth is going on?” Their mother and father had come running out at the sound of the commotion, followed closely by the rest of Charlie’s siblings. Charlie saw Fred and George grin and exchange something between their hands, taking bets on the outcome no doubt. 

“Bill, Charlie. Put your wands down,” their father entreated. “Let’s sit down and talk.” 

“I am not sitting down anywhere this scumbag is,” Bill said through gritted teeth, his wand not wavering from the target on Charlie’s chest. 

“Bill, what’s going on?” their mother cried. He ignored her. 

“You knew how I felt about her, and you just swooped in any way didn’t you?” 

“Swooped in?” Charlie said incredulously. “You’ve been gone for two years! We’ve only been dating for three months!” 

“Three months? You’ve been dating for three months and you haven’t told me?” 

“I don’t need to tell you anything,” Charlie said coldly. 

“Because you knew what I would say! What do you think I came home to do?” Bill asked furiously. 

Charlie’s pointed his wand at Bill again. “You keep your fat mouth shut and you stay away from her.” 

“Or what?” Bill laughed bitterly. “You scared she’s going to dump you as soon as I show up?” Charlie saw red; his anger tasted like copper in his mouth. 

“Furnunculus!” Charlie yelled, aiming the jinx directly at Bill who deflected it with a slash of his wand. 

“You’re going to have to do better than that if you want to land something,” Bill jeered. “How are you going to keep up with Rosemary if your dueling skills look like that?” 

Their wands came down simultaneously, bright lights flashing as they both tried to land a hit. Charlie strained to keep with Bill’s onslaught of spells; he had been right that Charlie’s skills were no match to that professional Curse-Breakers. 

Charlie had nearly been hit by another jinx when their father intervened. “Protego,” called firmly from the porch. The Shield Charm erected itself between Charlie and Bill; both were left glowering from each side. 

“Boys, enough,” their father said firmly. “This is not the way to go about things; it will only end up with someone hurt.” He turned to his eldest. “Bill, Rosemary is not something you can lay a claim on. She is her own woman who makes her own choices.” 

His father turned to Charlie then. “Charlie did you know about this?” he asked, his voice low and concerned. Charlie hesitated for a moment before answering. 

“No,” he lied. He heard his mother sigh from the porch. 

“Oh Charlie,” she chided, and Bill’s face alighted with vindication. 

“You see!” he exclaimed to this father. “He knew!” His father turned to Charlie, and Charlie could see the disappointment written over his face. 

“I don’t want anything to do with him,” Bill spat out from behind the Shield Charm. “He’s a back-stabbing coward and he doesn’t deserve her.” Bill looked straight at Charlie, bitterness swimming in his eyes. “If you don’t make this right…you can forget about calling me your brother.” 

And then just like Rosemary, Bill twisted in the air and disappeared with a crack. 

* * *

“What changed your mind?” Charlie asked quietly.

“Last time they were here,” Bill responded. “I brought you up accidentally, and her face…Charlie, it was like I had slapped her in the face just by saying your name. Broke my heart, but I pushed it aside. But then a few weeks ago, when Ginny mentioned her at breakfast…your face had the exact same expression as hers had. And then I realized, as much as I cared about her back then; I didn’t love her like that. Not like you do.” 

“Damn you, Bill,” Charlie sighed, more exhausted than angry now. “You couldn’t have figured that out a little earlier?” 

“But you can win her back!” Bill insisted, gripping Charlie’s arm eagerly. “Right now, just go knock on her door and tell her how you feel!” 

“Bill, win what back? She hates me.” 

“Well yes...but if you just talk to her—”

“No.” Charlie interrupted. “I’m not going to yank her around like that. I’ve done enough damage without hurting her even more.” 

  
Charlie stood up, exhaling loudly. He had tried so hard for so long to put Rosemary out of his mind, to try and forget what he did and how much he loved her. But Charlie was starting to think that would never happen

“I’m leaving tomorrow, Bill. And I don’t think I should be around her anymore, so I’m begging you; please don’t do this again.” 

Bill opened his mouth to argue, but he finally nodded tightly in agreement. 

Charlie’s stomach twisted for the hundredth time that night. If he could help it, tomorrow would be the last time he would ever see Rosemary Woodward. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Four, it's a bit short! Hope you guys enjoy it, please leave a comment if you enjoy it so far! :) Check out my Tumblr @penandlily for some fic extras.
> 
> Notes:
> 
> -So there is a bit of a love triangle going on...kind of. Bill doesn't have feelings for Rosemary anymore, and Rosemary never had feelings for Bill aside from a teenage crush. We're going to jump into Bill's head later in the fic and find out why he acted the way he did and why he and Rosemary weren't really ever right for each other. 
> 
> -Charlie has a lot of residual angst over how things went down. He regrets it a lot, even before what Bill told him. He also has an inferiority complex when it comes to Bill, which I'm going to try to explore deeper in later chapters. I'm trying to parallel him and Ron a bit in terms of growth. 
> 
> -Just like Harry and Hermione, Rosemary had the luck of growing up next to Charlie and Bill which is why Mrs. Weasley likes her. When we get to Fleur, we're gonna see a lot more of that dynamic as well. (I love Fleur, so I'm a little biased.) 
> 
> -Next week: Everyone gets a surprise and we meet Bill's coworkers.
> 
> Update 10/21: hey everyone, i had chapter five due on tuesday but i had a hard week and haven't been able to finish editing. tomorrow night chapter five will be up for sure. thanks for your patience -lily


	5. Goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill's coworkers make a big ask, and the Weasley's leave Egypt.

Chapter Five 

“Rosemary.”

Rosemary was awoken by the sound of Jacob’s muted voice and firm knock coming through from the other side of her door. She opened her eyes blearily, slightly disoriented by the dim darkness outside her window. Rosemary had expected the early morning sun to be shining when she awoke, but instead, the sky outside was still a deep blue with only the barest hint of light coming over the horizon.

“Merlin, what time is it?” Rosemary grumbled to herself as she pulled her dressing gown on reluctantly. The Weasley’s weren’t due to leave until later in the morning, and Rosemary was of the opinion that anything short of a natural disaster was not a good enough reason to be up at this hour.

She yanked the door open to find an equally drowsy Jacob standing expectantly in front of her. “Jacob, it’s barely past five,” she pointed out to her brother while attempting to rub the sleep away from her eyes. “Is the building on fire or something?” 

“As if I wanted to be up at this godforsaken hour,” Jacob told her grumpily. Rosemary noticed he was already out of his pajamas. “Bill came by ten minutes ago. He said to get dressed and come downstairs to the sitting room because there’s something he needs to show us.” 

Rosemary’s drowsiness faded away a bit as she took in Jacob’s words. “What about?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “Is something wrong?” 

Jacob shrugged indifferently. “How should I know? That’s all he told me.” Jacob eyed Rosemary’s dressing gown. “Hurry up and get dressed then,” he said impatiently. “I’m dying to know what Weasley wants.” He punctuated his sentence with an eye roll to demonstrate his apparent eagerness. 

“Give me five minutes,” Rosemary told him, already closing the door. Jacob gave a snort of amusement. 

“That’ll be the day,” she heard him snigger as she shut the door firmly behind her. 

Rosemary was determined to prove her brother wrong. Pulling her clothes haphazardly from her trunk while yanking a comb through her sleep-snarled hair was more difficult than it sounded, but at least her chaotic multitasking helped cut the time it usually took her to get ready in the mornings in half. Jacob looked surprised when she opened her door again a few minutes later, but all he offered for her haste was a steaming mug of black tea. 

“You’re welcome,” Jacobs said glibly, handing Rosemary her cup while taking a sip of his own cup of coffee. 

“Thank you,” she replied dryly. “Much appreciated.”    


They made their way down to the first floor together, both slightly apprehensive at what they would find in the parlor room. There was no telling what Bill wanted them for, and the unknown made Rosemary feel uneasy. She had had enough surprises on this trip already, thank you very much. 

Most of the inn was dark as they walked down the hallways; it was much too early for any of the inn’s normal patrons to be awake at this hour. 

“You know, I heard some people actually rest on vacations,” Jacob grumbled to Rosemary as they took in their empty surroundings. 

“We should be so lucky,” Rosemary sighed. 

They came to a stop in front of the same door as last night. “Should I knock?” Rosemary asked hesitatingly. Jacob gave her a familiar look of exasperation before pushing the door open.

The four occupants of the room that were standing around the coffee table turned to look at Rosemary and Jacob as they entered. In the room was Bill, another young man who couldn’t have been more than eighteen, a grey-haired woman whose stern face reminded Rosemary startlingly of Professor McGonagall and most surprising of all: Charlie. 

“What’s going on?” Jacob asked next to her, looking at Charlie suspiciously. The other woman stepped forward, greeting Jacob and Rosemary with a firm handshake. Her face was angular and calculating, and her long gray hair was braided to halfway down her back like a thick rope. 

“My name is September Fenn,” the woman said brusquely after letting go of Rosemary’s hand. “I use Fenn. You must be the Woodwards.” 

“I’m Rosemary, and this is Jacob,” Rosemary told Fenn. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

“This is Clinton Crewe,” Fenn said, gesturing to the slightly nervous-looking young man standing next to Bill. His face was narrow with a pair of square spectacles, and his skin was dark and lustrous. 

“You look familiar,” Rosemary told Clinton as the boy stepped forward to shake their hand. His grip was much weaker than Fenn’s, and it was slightly damp. 

“I was two years below you at Hogwarts,” Clinton told her. “Ravenclaw. I just graduated in June.” 

“In June?” Jacob smirked with an appraising eye. “You must be new at this.” 

“It’s his first expedition after his training,” Bill admitted, clapping Clinton on the back as he stepped forward to greet them. Clinton looked embarrassed. “Morning. Sorry for the early wake-up call. In case you haven’t figured it out, these are my fellow Curse-Breakers that are posted in Cairo at the moment.” 

“What’s going on?” Rosemary asked slowly, looking suspiciously between Bill and Charlie. “Did something happen?” Why Charlie was needed in a meeting for Curse-Breakers was beyond her, and after last night Rosemary was hoping she could avoid him for as much of the morning as possible. 

Bill gave Rosemary a shrug, jerking his towards Fenn as if to say  _ ask her _ . 

“I thought it would be easier to explain to all of you at once,” Fenn interjected. “Clinton and I were scouting the pyramid last week while Bill was on break, and we discovered some new developments that changed our plans quite a bit.”

Fenn gestured to Charlie. “That’s why we asked the other Weasley to come as well. I’m sure you’re familiar with each other?” 

“You could say that,” Jacob said under his breath, just low enough for Rosemary to catch. Rosemary ignored him.

“We are,” Rosemary said blithely, not wanting to reveal any of their difficult past to an attentive Fenn and Clinton. 

“Good,” Fenn nodded. “That’ll make things easier.” Rosemary fought back a giggle at Fenn’s inadvertent irony. The woman gestured to the cluttered coffee table. “Why don’t you take a look?”    


There were dozens of rolls of weathered parchment on the table. Rosemary knelt to examine them better. “Bill told me Twelfth dynasty for the tomb, is that right?” 

“Yes,” Clinton said. “We’re thinking early Twelfth. These are the rubbings we took of the hieroglyphic runes.” He gestured to a few sheets of tracing paper that had a few rows of hieroglyph imprints in charcoal.

Rosemary picked up a sheet. “Most likely. Maybe during the reign of Senusret I or Amenemhat II by the looks of these.” 

“How did you know that?” Clinton asked astonishedly. “It took me at least two days to figure out which dynasty it was from, much less the pharaoh themselves!” 

“I learned from the best,” Rosemary said with a small smile. 

“Bill?” Clinton asked, casting an eye over to his coworker doubtfully. Rosemary laughed. 

“No,” she said wanly. “An old friend.” She picked up a small, dusty jar that was on the table. It was half-filled with thin, rock-like fragments that sparkled dully in the warm firelight. “What’s that in there?” 

“Go ahead and open it,” Fenn suggested. Rosemary opened the jar, pouring a few of the Galleon flakes onto her hand. 

“It looks like it could be mica or maybe shale….” Rosemary gasped as she recognized what she held in her palm, looking at Fenn with astonishment. “Did you find this in the tomb?” 

“Yes,” Fenn said grimly. “We weren’t sure, but Charlie was able to confirm it for us.” 

“What is it, Rosemary?” Jacob asked urgently. Rosemary passed the jar to her brother wordlessly. Jacob looked inside the jar, and his eyes widened. “That’s impossible.” 

“It’s not impossible,” Charlie said grimly, speaking up for the first time. “They’re dragon scale fragments. They look like they could be fossilized or something, but they’re definitely dragon scales.” Rosemary looked at him, her anger pushed to the side thanks to her shock.

“But they’re not native to this region of Africa,” Charlie continued, his confusion evident. “Not even this close to Europe. There’s no cover here, no mountains or trees. And inside the tomb? How did they get a dragon in there?” 

“The Egyptian Wizarding community is the oldest in existence, maybe they found a way to transport some here in Ancient times,” Rosemary told him. “And mountainous regions of Africa have been known to have housed dragons for centuries. Do you recognize the pattern on it?” 

Charlie shook his head. “No, but I don’t have much experience with African dragons in the first place. And these pieces are fragmented, there’s no telling what they would look like on the actual dragon.”

Charlie and Rosemary looked at each other as he finished, and Rosemary was acutely aware that this was the first conversation that was more than three words long in nearly two years. She couldn’t help but remember all the afternoons they had spent in the library at Hogwarts, whispering furiously about Ancient Runes or dragons as they doodled on spare bits of parchment and avoided Madam Pince’s ire. 

“I’m afraid that the dragon scales themselves aren’t the strangest part,” Fenn told Rosemary and Jacob, breaking the small moment of connection. “It’s the fact that they weren’t there the last time we went inside.” 

Rosemary could have heard a pin drop after Fenn’s words registered with the group. 

“How is that possible?” Jacob asked aghast. “It can’t be living in there! Maybe one was migrating and somehow burrowed in while it was open and unguarded?” 

“Not likely,” Clinton put in. “We placed an Imperturbable Charm on the tomb entrance for safety, no dragon is getting past that.” 

“So the more likely scenario is an immortal dragon is living in an Egyptian tomb?” 

“Maybe a deterrent?” Rosemary suggested. “Dragon scales fall from the ceiling once the tomb is disturbed in hopes of warding off any wizarding intruders? No sane person would go willingly into a dragon lair.” 

“There’s already been intruders in there. We found some very old remains in the first passageways, it was a bit of a grisly sight.” 

“Mutated?” Jacob asked curiously. “We find that sometimes.” 

“Eviscerated,” Fenn said matter of factly. “Just piles of bones upon piles of bones. Couldn’t even tell what was the skull.” 

“Scorch marks?” Rosemary asked, examining the hieroglyphs to try and glean any additional information from them. 

“We didn’t see any, but the tomb has been sealed for centuries. They could have faded.” 

“Not likely,” Rosemary murmured. “Dragon flame causes lasting damage; there would have been some charring on the bones.” 

“Is it even possible for a dragon to live that long?” Jacob asked Charlie through his teeth. Rosemary was well aware of Jacob’s unwillingness to even acknowledge Charlie’s presence, much less recognize his expertise. 

“There’s no way,” Charlie responded from the corner of the room. “The oldest dragon ever known was 672 years old, and he could only walk a few paces before tiring himself out. One that has been alive for around four millennia is impossible.” 

“I think we might be past impossible,” Fenn said gravely. 

“It must be some kind of curse then,” Rosemary mused. “A protective spell that manifests physically into an actual dragon.” She looked at the rest of the people in the room. “That is...not good for us.” 

“No,” Fenn sighed. “It’s not good. Five people can’t take a fully grown dragon, especially without any prior knowledge.” She looked directly at Charlie. “Which is why you’re coming with us.” 

Rosemary turned to look at Jacob furtively. They exchanged incredulous looks. 

“Er...I’m not a Curse-Breaker,” Charlie said hesitatingly. “I wouldn’t be much help in a tomb.” 

“But you are a dragonologist,” Fenn said pointedly. “You could help us look for any signs of dragons, and a fully trained wizard tagging along never hurt anyone.” 

“Signs of dragons?” Charlie asked. “They’re not that hard to track, anywhere there’s a lot of burning and broken trees is usually what I look for.” 

“Not a lot of trees in an Egyptian tomb,” Clinton chuckled. “But you’ve got more experience than us dealing with those...things, we’re gonna need the help.” 

Rosemary noticed Charlie bristle at Clinton’s words. ‘Those things’ weren’t Charlie’s favorite term for dragons if Rosemary remembered correctly. 

“Rosemary knows enough about them,” Charlie argued. “I couldn’t tell you any more than she could in this case.” Rosemary felt her face flush slightly as Charlie looked over at her again.    
  
“He needs to go back to work,” Bill pointed out. “They’re expecting him tomorrow.” 

“That’s cleared already,” Fenn announced, pulling out a letter from her coat. “The Romanian Dragon Sanctuary has loaned out Charles Weasley out to Gringotts for a fortnight. We just got the letter back last night.” 

“Loaned out?” Charlie asked fiercely. “I don’t appreciate being ‘loaned out’ to anyone.” 

“How long did you know about this?” Bill asked Fenn with narrowed eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Less than a week,” Fenn said with a shrug. “Didn’t want to interrupt your family’s vacation.” 

“I can’t stay in Egypt,” Charlie insisted. “My Portkey is leaving for Romania in a few hours!” 

Fenn waved her hand dismissively. “Gringotts will pay for all travel expenses, don’t worry about that.”    
She gave Charlie a stern look. “Look, I’m not going to force you to stay. That’s up to you. But the fact of the matter is that I’m leading a team of five Curse-Breakers into a presumed dragon den with zero know-how. I would feel a hell of a lot safer with a dragon expert on our side, and I think my companions would agree. Don’t you want to make sure your brother and your friends are safe?”

Charlie pressed a hand to his temple in frustration. He exhaled loudly, and Rosemary though she caught his eyes flicker quickly over her face. No doubt weighing the benefits of making sure his brother was safe versus the detraction of having to be around Rosemary for however long the expedition took. 

“I need to think about this,” Charlie muttered angrily, and he left the room with his shoulders set tensely and a slam of the door.

* * *

_ Late August, Two Years Ago _

Rosemary’s eyes flickered impatiently to the clock that was perched on the fireplace mantle in her and Jacob’s shop. It was well into the afternoon, and she hadn’t heard anything from Charlie after leaving the Burrow two days ago. 

There was a multitude of boxes still to be unpacked, but Rosemary hadn’t even begun to work at them today. Instead, she had spent the day twiddling her thumbs and looking up nervously every time someone passed by their front door. 

Something was wrong. That had been evident as soon as Bill had spoken. The tension between Charlie and his older brother had been palpable, and Rosemary was bewildered with the animosity between them.

Bill hadn’t been able to attend their graduation in June; he had supposedly been stuck in Egypt with work. Now Rosemary was suspicious that it had just been an excuse for Bill and Charlie to stay away from each other. No doubt that either Charlie or Bill had said something to the other that had ruffled their feathers—an occasion that happened disappointingly often— and they had yet to make up. 

_ But still _ , Rosemary thought to herself. She had never seen them this  _ angry  _ with each other. They had tried to hide it, she could tell. But Bill’s neck had flushed a deeper red than Rosemary had ever seen it, and Charlie’s jaw was so clenched that Rosemary thought she would hear his teeth shatter before she Disapparated. 

It made her nervous, the animosity. She had never enjoyed the fights between Bill and Charlie back at Hogwarts; they had the unfortunate tendency to attempt to curry her favor to their ‘side’ whenever they had gotten themselves into a spat. Rosemary had usually gotten away with not upsetting either of them, which back then had meant avoiding them in the hallways and eating exclusively at the Hufflepuff table until she saw them having breakfast together again.    
  
Now, however, with everything that had developed between her and Charlie, there was no option to stay out of whatever problem had arisen between the two boys. 

Rosemary jumped as the fireplace suddenly roared alight with green flames. Charlie clambered out of the fireplace, his red hair and freckled skin covered in black soot. 

“Charlie!” Rosemary blurted out loudly, standing up in a hurry to greet him. 

“Hullo,” Charlie coughed as he shook off some of the ashes from his hair and clothes. “How are you?” He stood slightly aloof, and Rosemary was taken aback by his sudden distance. 

“Concerned,” she said tightly and with a raised eyebrow. “I haven’t seen you in two days.” Rosemary noticed that Charlie wouldn’t meet her eyes, and instead focused his gaze on the floor or out through the window to the busy street. “Charlie, what is going on?” 

“Nothing,” Charlie insisted, still not making eye contact “It’s nothing.”

“You’re a horrid liar, Charlie Weasley.” 

Charlie let out a long sigh, raking a hand through his hair. Rosemary looked at him carefully. There were dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn’t gotten any sleep in a while. He looked nervous.

“Rosemary…” he began hesitatingly. Rosemary waited expectantly as Charlie trailed off, looking past Rosemary to her desk. He stopped mid-sentence and walked towards it. She had just finished setting up her picture frames a few days ago, and Charlie picked one of them up. He looked at it for a moment, before flipping it around wordlessly to show Rosemary. 

It was a picture of her and Bill from her fifth year, taken to commemorate his last few days at Hogwarts. Charlie seemed to be waiting for an explanation. 

“He wasn’t in my graduation photo, so I put that one up,” Rosemary explained with confusion. “Are you okay? What in Merlin’s name does this have to do with anything?” 

Charlie put the frame down slowly. He took a deep breath before responding. “Everything is fine. I just might not be around for the next few days. That’s what I came to tell you.”

“A few days? And why is that?” she asked suspiciously at his evasive answer. “Something’s happened, I know it did.”

“Nothing’s happened!” Charlie insisted loudly. Rosemary recoiled away from his sudden irritation, but her shock at seeing a normally even-tempered Charlie angry did nothing to ease her apprehension. 

“Come off it Charlie! You come to me looking like you have pins in the soles of your trainers and then you tell me that everything is fine? You’re hiding something that you don’t want to tell me.” Rosemary kept her fixed glare on Charlie as she studied him. His jaw was set with frustration, and he hadn’t stopped running a stiff hand through his hair. 

“Rosemary, can you just please let this one go?” Charlie pleaded with exasperation. She and Charlie locked eyes at each other for a moment, when Rosemary inadvertently caught a glimpse of what Charlie was trying to hide. 

An angry—no, not angry,  _ furious _ —Bill appeared in Rosemary’s mind, glaring at Rosemary like it was she was his worst enemy. Realizing what she had done, Rosemary quickly dropped the image in Charlie’s mind, and it shattered like glass as she broke the accidental connection. 

Rosemary looked away, worried that she would use Legilimens if she made eye contact again. Even if it had happened accidentally, using Legilimens on Charlie made her feel sick. Invading someone’s mind always made Rosemary feel vile, much less on someone she cared about so much.

“Alright,” Rosemary glowered finally. “Keep your secrets.” She sighed wearily as Charlie sagged slightly with relief as the tension broke. “Just...promise me you’re okay?” She stepped towards Charlie, warily placing a hand on his chest. “I’m just worried about you.” 

Charlie looked anxiously at Rosemary for a moment. Rosemary looked down to prevent another inadvertent connection when she felt his hand wrap softly around her chin, pulling it back up. 

Rosemary felt the crush of his lips to hers. They were burning on hers, fervent and achingly warm as Charlie pulled her tightly against his chest. Rosemary returned the kiss in kind, putting their tiff to the side as she tangled her fingers in his hair. Charlie nearly lifted her off her feet with the force of his kiss; Rosemary had to wrap her leg around him to maintain her balance. 

They separated slightly, both panting a bit breathlessly. “Jacob won’t be back until later,” Rosemary said softly. “Let’s go upstairs.” 

Rosemary’s arms fell limply to her sides as Charlie pulled away suddenly. 

“I should get back,” Charlie muttered, walking back to the fireplace stiffly. “I’ll come by in a few days, alright?” 

“Charlie—” she started, but he had already pulled a handful of Floo Powder from his pocket.

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised, as the green flames came alive in the fireplace. He looked back at Rosemary for a moment, and for the first time since she had met Charlie, Rosemary felt a sinking feeling in her stomach as they looked at each other.

“The Burrow,” Charlie said finally, and he disappeared just as suddenly as he arrived.

Rosemary was alone again. 

* * *

The Curse-Breakers dispersed quietly from the parlor room once Charlie had slammed the door on his way out. Rosemary had made her way back to her room, her mind racing at the possibility of having to endure even more painful encounters with Charlie if he decided to stay in Egypt to help them. 

Rosemary had tried to sleep again once she had crawled back into bed after shutting the door on a furious Jacob (who had yet to stop complaining about the turn of events) but gave up after an hour of tossing and turning restlessly and completely unable to quiet her uneasy thoughts enough to get any more rest. 

There was no way that Charlie would stay, Rosemary had thought to herself desperately as she stared up at the ceiling of her room. Charlie seemed to want to be around her even less than she did, which Rosemary didn’t think was possible until she saw how angry he had gotten at the idea of having to be around her any longer than already necessary. Although there had been that moment in the parlor room when they had fallen so easily into their old familiarity… 

_ No _ , Rosemary told herself firmly.  _ That is a dangerous way to think, Rosemary _ . It was hard enough to have to be around him, but deluding herself into thinking he was anything other than a coward and liar would only make hating him infinitely more difficult. In an attempt to distract herself from her circular thoughts, Rosemary had pulled out her books, focusing her energy on scouring the texts she had brought with her to Egypt for any mention of dragons in tombs. That too proved fruitless in the end, and Rosemary had thrown them aside with frustration.

Once the sun had risen significantly in the sky and Rosemary’s stomach had started grumbling too loudly to ignore, Rosemary had carefully ventured downstairs. Breakfast was quiet; the Weasleys were nowhere to be seen and Jacob seemed to realize it was better to leave Rosemary alone at the moment. Rosemary had instead sat alone in the corner of the dining room, interrupted only by Mistress Dahlia asking her if she needed anything else. 

Now Rosemary had found a place where she could ensure that she wouldn’t have to find herself with another pair of prying eyes. Opening the door that led to the balcony outside her room, Rosemary took a deep breath as the morning sun warmed her face. 

She sat quietly on one of the balcony’s Adirondack chairs, her knees tucked tightly into her chest as she took in the view of the sprawling city around her, and the heat of the early morning sun began to melt away some of her anxieties. 

“Hullo.” 

Rosemary jerked at the sound of the sudden greeting. She turned her head to the left where she heard the sound. On the floor of the balcony to her left sat Charlie, looking up at her with a furrowed brow. If he hadn’t spoken she wouldn’t have realized he was there. 

“Hello,” was all that Rosemary was able to manage. She turned her eyes back to the city, suddenly unable to look into his eyes as they sat alone next to each other. They sat quietly for a few moments in tense silence.

“Are you coming with us?” Rosemary finally managed. 

“I don’t know,” Charlie responded after a few seconds, frustration coloring his voice. “I don’t know if I should.” 

Silence fell over them again. Rosemary stared straight ahead over the balcony. She thought of the letter that was tucked away in her night table at home. 

“I suppose you’ll do what you think is best,” she said evenly, turning to look Charlie directly in the eye. “Don’t you always?” It was all Rosemary could to keep herself from trembling with anger as she stared at him.

Rosemary watched Charlie’s face drain of color. Now it was he that couldn’t meet her eyes.  _ Good _ , hissed a quiet voice in Rosemary’s mind.  _ He  _ should  _ be ashamed _ . 

The door to Charlie’s balcony opened suddenly, both Rosemary and Charlie jumped at the sound. Bill’s head popped out of the room. “Charlie, everyone’s getting ready to leave. Are you coming?” He turned his head to survey the balcony and noticed Rosemary.

“Ah,” Bill said, stopping short when he saw her. “I didn’t know that was your room, Rosemary.”

“I’m going downstairs to say goodbye,” Rosemary said while standing up stiffly. 

“I’ll be right there,” Bill told her, shooting a look at a still colorless Charlie. Charlie didn’t look back.

Rosemary opened and closed the door of the balcony quietly. Her breath trembled as she exhaled in the safety of her room. Why had she said that to him?

The Weasleys had congregated in the entryway of the inn, surrounded by a multitude of trunks and carpetbags. Mrs. Weasley smiled broadly when she saw Rosemary coming down the stairs. It was a wide and warm smile, and it reminded Rosemary of the way Charlie used to smile at her that she thought it would break her heart all over again.

“Rosemary, dear it was  _ so wonderful _ to see you again,” Mrs. Weasley said, giving Rosemary a warm pat on the cheek after Rosemary had descended the stairs. “Why don’t you come and see us during Christmas?” she asked entreatingly. “We would absolutely love to have you around the Burrow again.” 

Rosemary gave Mrs. Weasley a wan smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.” She couldn’t promise a visit, especially if it meant risking a run-in with Charlie again. Mrs. Weasley seemed to hear the non-committance in Rosemary’s voice, and she gave a sympathetic smile in return. 

“Anytime, dear.”

Jacob down the stairs next, and obliged Mrs. Weasley’s kiss on the cheek. Jacob had been to the Burrow for dinner a few times, and Mrs. Weasley had been much taken with her brother’s never-ending enthusiasm for her food.

Mr. Weasley shook her and Jacob’s hand warmly. “Good luck in the pyramids Rosemary, Jacob. Take care of each other.” 

“It’s one of the only things I know how to do right, Mr. Weasley,” Jacob said wryly. Mr. Weasley laughed.“Fair enough.” He turned to Rosemary. “And Molly is quite right. You’re welcome in our home anytime.” 

It was Ginny’s turn next. She gave Rosemary a tight hug again. “I wish you were my sister,” Ginny whispered into Rosemary’s shirt, too low and muffled for anyone else to hear. 

Rosemary felt the ice rush through her body as Ginny’s words left her numb. No, that would never happen would it? 

“Wouldn’t that be nice,” Rosemary chuckled softly, trying to mask her hurt from the young girl. “I’m afraid it’s only brothers for us, Ginny.” 

“I know,” Ginny sighed wearily, letting go of Rosemary and looking up at her. “Promise you’ll come to see me soon! I’m going to start practicing the Bat-Bogey Hex when I get to Hogwarts; Bill taught it to me over the summer!” 

“That’s a good one,” Rosemary laughed. “Keep it in your back pocket for a special occasion alright?” 

Ginny nodded seriously, no doubt envisioning what that special occasion would.

The other Weasley children said their goodbyes to Rosemary, Jacob, and Bill. Ron was especially preoccupied with his rat Scabbers, showing Rosemary his thin appearance with much concern while saying goodbye. Rosemary privately thought that the thirteen-year-old rat seemed to be on its last legs of life, but she kept that to herself so as to not upset a distressed Ron.

“Where’s Charlie?” Mr. Weasley asked Bill nervously—who had just come down the stairs— while checking his watch. “It’s almost 10, and our Portkeys leave in half an hour.” 

“He said he’d be down a few minutes,” Bill told his father while giving Rosemary a furtive look. “I’m sure he won’t be much longer.” 

Only a few minutes of Mrs. Weasley’s impatient foot-tapping passed before Charlie came down from the second-floor landing. His face was set in determination, and somehow Rosemary knew what his decision had been before he announced it. She couldn’t tell what emotion it was that made her heartbeat so quickly as he came down. Anger, sadness...or anticipation. 

“I’m staying here to help for a little while,” Charlie told Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. He stooped to kiss his mother’s cheek. “I’ll be home for Christmas again.” 

“Charlie, you don’t know anything about these places!” Mrs. Weasley said anxiously. “Anything could happen to you down there!” 

Charlie sighed heavily. “Mum, I deal with giant fire breathing creatures that can  _ fly _ on a daily basis. I’m not incompetent. Besides,” he added with a snicker. “I’m sure if Bill can manage, it can’t be that hard.” 

Rosemary rolled her eyes while Bill and Jacob scowled simultaneously. A Curse-Breaker’s pride was very easily wounded. 

“If this is what you want Charlie…” Mr. Weasley said slowly. His eyes flickered to Rosemary, just quick enough for her to catch but not slow enough for her to decipher. He turned to his fretting wife. “I’m sure they’ll all be fine Molly,” Mr. Weasley told her soothingly.   


Mrs. Weasley made a sound of dissatisfaction in the back of her throat. “My children,” she shuddered. “ _ Daredevils _ .” 

The Weasley’s scrambled to say their final goodbyes, with hugs and choruses of ‘be safe!’ exchanged from the leaving and staying parties. Rosemary tried to ignore the last meaningful look that Mrs. Weasley gave her as they departed; it was as if the woman was trying to convince her of something that Rosemary couldn’t even begin to guess. 

Finally, the entryway was silent for a moment as the bell over the doorway gave its last tinkle as Mr. Weasley shut it behind himself. Jacob was giving Charlie a hard look that Charlie was no longer avoiding as he had last night.  _ So he grew a shiny new backbone, _ Rosemary thought scathingly to herself.  _ Good for him.  _

“Excellent,” Fenn said with satisfaction as she emerged from the corner she and Clinton had retreated to while the Weasleys departed. “You did the right thing, Charlie. Gringotts will make sure that you’ve compensated adequately.” 

“I just want to make sure everyone is safe,” Charlie told Fenn firmly. “I don’t want any gold.” 

All the Curse-Breakers exchanged looks. “Well,” Clinton remarked lightly. “That would certainly be a first.” 

“We’re leaving at noon,” Fenn advised the group. “Prepare accordingly, there’s a high chance we’ll be sleeping in there if something happens so pack well.” She addressed Bill. “Show your brother some of the spells we use. Tracking spells, Spell detection,  _ Finite Incantatem _ . The basics. Avoid runic magic, that will just overwhelm him and you’re not nearly good enough at it to explain it properly.” Bill blushed slightly, and Rosemary had a feeling that Fenn was not one to mince words with her coworkers.

“Runic magic?” Charlie asked with confusion. Fenn gave Bill a pointed look.    


“It’s a very ancient kind of magic,” Rosemary explained quietly, and a part of her was shocked at herself for speaking up after their unpleasant run-in on the balcony. Charlie looked at her with surprise. “Hard to decipher, and equally hard to break. Most wizards can’t break it without proper training.” 

“Bill said it was your specialty,” Fenn said appraisingly. “Surely not just from your Hogwarts education?” 

“Self-taught for the most part.” Rosemary shrugged. “I had a friend who loved studying Ancient Magic, and I’ve sort of made it my hobby since then.” 

“Ah yes,” Fenn said knowingly. “Rowan Khanna.” Rosemary’s eyes widened with surprise at the mention of her friend. 

“How do you know Rowan?” Rosemary asked Fenn. 

“Bill talks about her sometimes,” Fenn said gruffly as if they had just reached a topic she was supremely uncomfortable with. “Sounds like she was sharp as a tack.” 

“She was,” Rosemary said numbly. The memories coursed through her like an icy river. A flash of green light, a horrifying chorus of screams, and the stiff body of her best friend collapsing in front of her...the image burned through Rosemary’s mind like a cattle prod. There was no getting used to that feeling, not even after almost four years. Her breath hitched in her throat, and Rosemary fought to maintain her composure. 

“One of the best,” Bill said sadly. Rosemary took a shaky breath, all too aware of the eyes on her. She couldn’t look up; the looks of pity that had plagued her at Hogwarts had gotten old quickly enough that she never wanted to see it again. 

But she could feel one pair of eyes burning into her, and she felt her chin lift involuntarily. Charlie was looking directly at Rosemary, his eyes as even and gentle as the time she had sobbed brokenly into his shoulder in a quiet corner of a castle passageway when she couldn’t get through another minute without the hole in heart threatening to overwhelm her. All the love Rosemary had for Rowan; it had almost killed her back then. Rosemary had been left with a void that she refused to fill with anything other than bitterness and grief. 

In truth, it had been Charlie who had brought her back from that. Quietly, he had stayed when she had screamed at him to leave her alone when he followed her out of the middle of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Stayed with her until she had collapsed into his arms with the sheer exhaustion of her anguish. 

There hadn’t been any pity in his eyes when she had finally cried herself out, half an hour into the next class period. Only a look that Rosemary used to call love. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that chapter took a lot longer than anticipated. I had severe writer's block all week that kind of put a damper on everything, unfortunately. This chapter had a lot of world-building, which I dislike because I worry it won't fit in with the feel of the canon world, and I kind of wish I hadn't done the letter route and had them break up in this chapter's flashback instead. I feel like it would have fit better with the characters I'm writing, and if I could go back and change it I would. It doesn't change the storyline at all; it's just one of the downsides of publishing chapter by chapter. Please leave a comment about what you think about this chapter; they really do help keep me motivated and give me new ideas! Very sorry about the late upload. :(
> 
> Notes:  
> -This flashback actually came out of nowhere. I didn't plan on writing it but I like the idea of having a flashback in every chapter of Part 1.  
> -Fenn isn't "in on" the Charlie and Rosemary situation. She's just a former Slytherin whose main goals are 1) get her crew out safely 2) get the treasure. Having Charlie along will help her chances at both, so if Fenn has to guilt Charlie into doing it, she will. Bill was also not aware of this situation beforehand, just to be clear.   
> -I'm having some icky feelings about the looting of ancient ruins in general. I think I'm going to figure out to make it feel a little less morally corrupt.   
> -The way I'm writing this, Charlie didn't know he was going to break up with Rosemary at that point. He was going to tell her about what happened with Bill, but then he thought of something that made him not (that'll be a flashback in another chapter!), and he sent the letter a week later.   
> -Charlie in his room during the entire chapter: AHHHH WHAT DO I DO I DON'T WANT TO BUT I HAVE TO OKAY JUST GO *continues to scream internally* (  
> -I cannot confirm or deny there is a dragon in there. Okay yeah, there's a dragon in there. 
> 
> Next week: We finally get inside a pyramid.


	6. Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie lets us into his mind again as our team enters a tomb.

Chapter Six

* * * * *

Charlie 

* * * * *

They had been traveling down a long desert for the better part of an hour. The sun beat down hard on the bed of the truck where Charlie, Bill, Rosemary, and Clinton sat together, but there must have been a charm that stopped the worst of the sun’s rays because Charlie had only felt a comfortable heat as they drove further away from the streets of Cairo. 

Clinton had pointed out landmarks in the golden desert every once in a while, talking excitedly about a rock formation or the location of a hidden oasis, but the horizon blurred into one long stretch to Charlie’s untrained eye. Rosemary, however, would listen attentively and ask curious questions every so often, before flipping back to one of the books that she had unpacked from her bag to connect whatever thought she had had to the information she read.

Bill and Jacob had not been as interested in Clinton’s random bits of information, with Jacob getting increasingly bored until Bill had the brilliant idea to pull out a deck of Exploding Snap. They had spent a majority of the journey getting more and more abrasively foulmouthed as one tried to best the other until Rosemary had finally had enough and threatened to Silence them for the rest of the trip. Charlie was quietly grateful for her intervention; their intermittent outbursts weren’t doing much to ease his nerves. 

“Are we almost there?” Jacob asked Bill lazily. He had his head tilted back against the cabin’s back window and his legs propped up against the bed of the truck, and looked particularly untroubled as if their upcoming trek was nothing more than a casual trip to the store.

“Just about,” Bill replied, squinting into the distance as he tried to see past the bright sun. “I suppose less than five minutes now.”

“Shouldn’t we be seeing the pyramid by now?” Charlie asked, using a hand to block out the glare from his eyes as he looked for a sign of a pyramid on the horizon. 

“It’s not a pyramid,” Bill explained while Jacob snickered. Charlie ignored him, but the tinge of heat that warmed his ears gave away the embarrassment of his inexperience caused him. 

Bill continued. “It’s more of a tiny city of graveyards; a necropolis to be exact. Most of the ones in Egypt were filled with ordinary people who were important and rich enough for a proper burial. But some necropolises were magical,” he said excitedly. “Ancient Egyptian witches and wizards buried themselves together, and they hid necropolises all over Egypt, glamoured to make sure their eternal rest would never be disturbed.” He grinned to himself as he finished his eerie sentence. 

“The magical ones are the interesting ones,” Clinton chimed in. “Underground tombs chock full of enchanted booby traps at every corner, hundreds of mummies, and runic magic that will blow your head clear off if you’re not careful enough. Lucky for us, those are the ones with our treasure in them.” 

“Runic magic,” Charlie mused. “I didn’t take Study of Ancient Runes at Hogwarts. What makes it so different from regular magic?”

“The Ancient Runes they teach at Hogwarts are different from the runes we deal with,” Clinton explained. “At Hogwarts, it's mostly recognition and translation; seventh years barely scratch the surface of casting runic magic. It’s kind of a lot to take in,” he added, looking doubtfully at Charlie. 

“Runic magic is special,” Rosemary put in suddenly, still not lifting her eyes from her book. Charlie felt his stomach swoop at the sound of her voice. “Most spells we typically use are easily broken, more or less. _Finite incantatem_ will work well enough on most, and there are other ways to fix spell damage like they do in St. Mungo’s.” 

“Runic magic, however,” she went on finally lifting her eyes to look at Charlie, with flat eyes and voice as factual and as detached as if she were reciting a from an instruction manual. “Runic magic can only be broken by more runic magic and the correct rune spell at that. Use the wrong phrase once and you’ll find yourself with a nasty spell doubled.” 

“Aren’t runes Norse?” Charlie asked her, trying to ignore the pang in his chest that her cold detachment gave him. He would have to get much more used to that if he was going to survive the next few days, but at least now she was willing to even speak to him with something other than extreme distaste in her voice. 

“It’s used as more of a catch-all for written based magic,” Bill interjected, and Charlie saw a flash of annoyance cross Rosemary’s face. She didn’t like being talked over, Charlie remembered.“Technically incorrect, but it’s easier to just use a blanket term. These would be hieroglyphic runes to be more exact.” 

Charlie nodded silently. He had found he disliked being the layman in a group of experts. In Romania, his coworkers had quickly learned to turn to him with their questions, even when he was still in training. Here, there was no shortage of questions rattled around in Charlie’s mind as he thought more and more about what awaited him. He almost opened his mouth to ask more, but Jacob shot him an irritated look that Charlie took to meant ‘you’ve said enough’. 

Jacob had shot him that look often during the drive, especially the times when Charlie hadn’t been able to move his eyes away quickly enough from Rosemary’s face. Charlie’s eyes flashed to her again; it was almost involuntary now. 

Her brow was furrowed as she studied her heavy tome. She had spent the entire ride studying it, only looking up occasionally to point something out to an indifferent Jacob or a curious Bill. She had looked increasingly frustrated as the time passed as if she was working on a puzzle that she just couldn’t unravel. 

Charlie was reminded of the times at Hogwarts when Rosemary would withdraw into herself before going off to do something with a Vault; silent and pensive as she prepared for whatever was coming for her. Back then, Charlie had done his best with his nerves. He would hover anxiously around Rosemary as if she would disappear at any moment until the moment when she would actually vanish. Whenever she had reappeared from her pursuits—sometimes triumphant, sometimes distraught—Charlie had scarcely been able to take his eyes off her with the relief of having her back safe. 

_Things certainly are different now_ , Charlie thought wryly to himself. 

Rosemary’s eyes seemed to slide over him when she looked up to take inventory of their surroundings as they made their way to their destination. Too inconsequential to acknowledge. 

_That’s how you wanted it_ , Charlie reminded himself. _That's not her fault_. 

The bed of the ancient truck they were using for transport wasn't the most comfortable of rides, but Bill had said it was the most efficient to reach the necropolis. It let the Curse-Breakers bring all their equipment comfortably while avoiding any painful Splinching for Jacob, Rosemary, and Charlie who were too unfamiliar with Egypt to Apparate safely within its borders. 

Charlie spotted something in the distance as the truck began to veer off the road and into the rougher terrain. “Is that it?” he pointed, gesturing into the distance. 

“That’s it,” Clinton answered. “We’re here.” 

The truck rolled to a bumpy stop at the outskirts of a group of brown, stone buildings, and Charlie was surprised to see they looked almost perfectly preserved. He had expected crumbling stones and dirt, but the structures stood tall in the middle of the harsh desert. 

One building in particular stood out to Charlie. It was imposing, much bigger than any of the other’s that surrounded it. There were no doors, just solid walls of stone that looked impregnable. 

“Everyone out,” Fenn called, sliding out of the truck’s cab. She had insisted on driving the entire way before they left the inn, citing extreme doubt in Bill and Clinton’s vehicular capacities. Charlie couldn’t blame her; he had seen Bill try to drive their father’s Ford Angila once. 

Charlie hopped out of the truck bed, eager to stretch his legs after the long rider. The Curse-Breakers followed suit, and Charlie studied them as they assembled their bags and equipment.

They made an intimidating sight, with their dragon-hide boots and utility belts that they checked and doubled checked as they pulled out small bottles and strange instruments from the pouches. Charlie felt useless as he stood idly by as the rest of them made their preparations; he was armed with nothing except his wand and chain around his neck that he had made sure stayed tucked into his shirt whenever he was around Rosemary.

Rosemary had pulled her hair up and rolled her sleeves back; she looked every bit the Curse-Breaker that Charlie had always imagined she would be, focused on the task ahead and yet visibly buzzing with the excitement of finding something new. 

Charlie, on the other hand, felt like his stomach had twisted itself into a tight, undoable knot the further they had gotten from the city. 

Merlin, he did miss Romania. 

He missed his dragons. With them, at least he always knew what to expect. Yes, they would breathe fire and try to take a bite out of him, but when Charlie was around them everything else disappeared from his mind. 

Here, there was only one thing that occupied his mind. And there was no way to escape her. 

Charlie stood to the side of the truck, watching with envy as Bill and Rosemary began to shoot a few sparks back and forth, their wands flicking quickly to and fro as they dueled jovially. 

“You’ve gotten better,” Bill grinned to Rosemary after a few minutes of back and forth. 

“I’ve always been that good,” she laughed, tucking her wand in a leather cuff around her arm. Charlie didn’t remember her using that before. “I think you’re just getting old,” she finished teasingly to Bill. 

“Old?” Bill asked indignantly, but Charlie could see the spark in his eye. “I’ll have you know-”

“Oi!” Fenn called loudly at the wall of the large brick building that Charlie had noticed. “If we’re done with the banter, I’d like to get started now!” Bill and Rosemary pinked slightly, and Bill gave Charlie a nervous look that Charlie tried to ignore but there was heard a loud ringing in his ears as he walked towards a waiting Fenn.

“Took us a few weeks to find this one,” Charlie heard Clinton tell Jacob behind him. “Knew it was around here somewhere, but we couldn’t see it until we were almost right on top of it.” 

“Right,” Fenn announced as they gathered around her. Charlie thought her stern expression reminded him a bit of Professor McGonagall, even though the two women looked almost nothing alike.

“We’re going in at a disadvantage. We know there’s something in _there_ ,” Fenn gestured, jabbing a finger towards the building, “that will rip us up from tip to toe if we let it.”

“It might be a dragon,” she said with a pointed look towards Charlie, “but it may be something else altogether. We need to be vigilant and stay prepared for whatever gets thrown our way.” 

“Do not separate and do not touch _anything_ without investigating it properly first,” she finished aiming the last part at Clinton, whose face had taken on the expression of someone who was about to open the door to a boggart. “Together our odds are good, but if one person goes off on their own then their odds of returning above ground in one piece are damn near zero.”

“Very energizing Fenn,” Bill said grimly. “Nothing like the threat of death to get the blood pumping.”

“Where’s the entrance?” Jacob asked with a cursory glance over the buildings. “Don’t see anything that screams ‘secret underground tomb’ here.” 

“Right here,” Fenn answered with a firm knock on the wall behind her. “We have to crack her open again.” 

Fenn pulled out her wand and closed her eyes, muttering over the wall as she waved her wand over each part of the doorway. Charlie didn’t know much about Curse-Breaking, but he knew breaking an Imperturbable Charm was no easy work—and certainly out of Charlie’s wheelhouse.

After a few minutes, Fenn lowered her wand with satisfaction. “Done,” she said proudly, even though the wall looked exactly the same. “One more thing.” 

Fenn pulled a knife from her belt and sliced the tip of her finger open so quickly that Charlie barely had time to blink. 

Charlie watched wide-eyed as she began to draw on the wall with her bloodied finger. “She’s drawing the Eye of Ra,” Bill whispered in Charlie’s eyes. “To open the doorway, like a password. Kind of like the entrance to Diagon Alley.”

None of the Curse-Breakers seemed phased by Fenn’s bloodied finger, although Clinton looked quite grateful that it wasn’t his finger being cut open.

As Fenn finished her drawing, the brown stone began to melt away leaving a low arch-shaped opening in the wall that descended into what seemed like total darkness. 

“Come on in,” Fenn said, gesturing to the tomb entrance. “Careful, there are stairs.” She ducked into the opening in the wall, with Clinton and Bill following close behind. 

Jacob and Rosemary gave Charlie the same appraising look. With their equally piercing eyes and dark hair, it was hard for Charlie to believe they were nine years apart in age instead of fraternal twins. 

Jacob imitating Fenn’s gesture, indicating for Charlie to follow his brother into the passageway.

“After you,” Jacob said with a raised eyebrow. He lowered his voice ominously. “If you dare.” 

Charlie grimaced as he stepped into the tomb. He had a feeling this was not going to be fun. 

The tomb’s entrance was dark; the only light that came in was from the tunnel opening as Charlie walked carefully down the short steps. 

“Lumos,” he heard Fenn grunt, and the light from Fenn’s wand washed over the cavern as Charlie took a final step off the stairs.

Bill, Fenn, and Clinton stood in the middle of the chamber as they studied the space around them. It was a low dome of smooth stone, with almost the same shade of brown as it’s exterior. There was a narrow passage in the middle of the room across from the stairs. Charlie felt a chill blow up his back as the coolness of the tomb hit him after the baking heat of the sun outside. 

Rosemary and Jacob had followed him quickly down, with Jacob flicking his wand upwards and producing a few orbs of light that lit up the cavern even further.

“It’ll be a tight squeeze at first, but the tunnel widens after a few feet,” Fenn said, nodding towards the tunnel. “We already swept it, no enchantments thankfully. Further in there’s a chamber—that’s where we found the dragon scales and the bones—and two more tunnels that fork. That’s as far as we were willing to go in with just two of us.” 

She ended the sentence with a note of finality that hung in the air for a moment until Jacob spoke.

“I suppose we better get started then,” Jacob spoke. “We won’t get the job done standing around here all afternoon.”  
  
Fenn nodded grimly. “If no one has any objections, that would probably best.” 

Charlie looked at the rest of the group hesitantly, but no one protested. Jacob was right; there was no use delaying the inevitable.

“Alright then,” Fenn said, holding her wand aloft as she turned to the tunnel. 

Fenn stopped just before entering, pointing to a set of hieroglyphics over the tunnel entrance. “There’s an inscription just over the opening.” 

“The fire of life burns to death,” Bill translated.

“Burns _in_ death,” Rosemary corrected quietly.

Charlie flinched slightly as she spoke up right next to his shoulder. She had moved closer to take a better look at the inscription. It was the closest Charlie had been to her in two years. She didn’t look at him as she repeated her translation.

“The fire of life burns in death.” 

><><><><

Nothing eventful happened for the first hour of their descent into the tomb. They had walked close together, with Fenn driving them forward and Bill bringing up the rear. 

Charlie had tried to keep himself focused as they had walked through the long tunnel. They had come across a few obstacles. A sandpit that both Charlie and Clinton had almost fallen through, but Rosemary had yanked Charlie’s arm fast enough to pull him away while Jacob had taken hold of Clinton as one of his feet began to skin.

Rosemary had dropped her hand away just as quickly and had said nothing when Charlie had muttered his thanks but Charlie could still feel the warmth of her hand burning into his arm. 

They had also run into a blood-colored cloud of something noxious in one section of the passageway, and Fenn had yelled at them to use a Bubble Head Charm just in time to stop the red mist from hitting their faces. The rest of their bodies had not fared as well, and Charlie was still desperately itchy from the irritation it had caused.

Charlie glanced at Rosemary, but this time she was looking at him too. Her eyes quickly flickered away, but Charlie thought that there might have been a slight flush to her cheeks…. 

Charlie was distracted from his wishful thinking as he noticed a change in their surroundings. The tunnel began to widen gradually, opening itself into a chamber almost like the one they had first entered. This one, however, had what seemed like a stone box to Charlie. It had a slab of rock over it and etchings carved into its surface, but the layer of dust from the past millennia made them nearly illegible. 

Fenn came to a sudden halt as she turned to look at the rest of them.

“I have a feeling we're about to run into something here,” she said cautiously. “We need to tread carefully if this is what I think it is.” 

“What it is-”

No sooner had Charlie begun his sentence when the sarcophagus began to tremble on the platform where it sat. The slab began to slide open, and an unearthly shriek emerged from the opening.

The rest of the slap was thrown off and landed face up next to the stone box. Skeletal hands began to pull themselves out.

Jacob was the only one who spoke. 

“Shit.” 

In a split second, the Curse Breakers began to divide. Fenn pulled Clinton with her as she drove right, already sending her first spell into a wave of skeletal mummies. 

“Charlie come on!” Bill called to him as he moved left, yanking Charlie’s jacket sleeve. Charlie looked back to Jacob and Rosemary, who had already begun moving swiftly forward towards the emerging monsters. 

“But what about—” 

“They'll be fine!” Bill yelled. “We have to divide them before they corner us!” 

Charlie followed his brother. Bill was right, they would be overrun if they stayed in one place. The over two dozen mummies that had arisen were armored and brandished spears as they rushed towards Bill and Charlie.

“Make them blow up or catch fire!” Bill yelled over the shrieking of the mummies. He sent an orange jet of light towards the approaching corpses, and they burst with a screech into a cloud of flames and dust.

Charlie nodded determinedly. He fought side by side with Bill, shooting spell after spell into the advancing mummies. They barely got close enough to slash with their spears before they fell to another well-aimed jinx.

The bodies began to drop much quicker than Charlie anticipated. The six of them made quick work of the skeletons, falling three or four at a time as the volley of spells continued. Only half a dozen remained, and they seemed to be aware they were losing as they rushed still screeching towards the tunnel opening, where Rosemary and Jacob stood waiting. 

Charlie watched Rosemary battle next to Jacob from the corner of his eye as he dispatched the last warrior mummy that had approached him. He always knew she was a fierce combatant, able to knock him flat on his back whenever she had cajoled him into sparring with her. The things he had seen Rosemary do at seventeen were astounding.

She had gotten even better.  
  
Rosemary’s wand twirled in a deadly arc as she and Jacob pressed forwards to meet their final opponents. She stalked forward, as smoothly and quickly as a pouncing tiger as her wand flicked quickly from to target. The look on her face was so singularly focused that Charlie could only watch in awe as she took out three mummies with one well-aimed flash of light.

Charlie and the other Curse-Breakers moved forward to help, but Jacob seemed to have had enough of the fight. With a long slash of his wand, a thick rope of flames burst from his wand, cutting through the last wave of mummies like a hot knife through butter. 

“That takes care of that,” he said smugly as the mummies stumbled and disintegrated into fiery ash. 

The six of them met in the middle of the chamber, near the now-empty stone sarcophagus. Charlie’s heart pounded in his ears, acutely aware that he had just escaped death at the hands of thirty spear-wielding skeletons.

Clinton looked ashen as he approached. Bill clapped the young man firmly on the back as he congratulated him on a job well done. Fenn studied the walls of the room while Jacob kicked over the bones the mummies had left behind.

Rosemary positively glowed as she approached in the light of the warm firelight; her blue eyes sparkled excitedly with the adrenaline. Stooping down next to the stone sarcophagus, Rosemary pulled out a large brush from her belt that she used to sweep dust from the surface of the stone lid. She ran a finger over the carvings while murmuring intelligibly under her breath. 

“Is that all you have here Weasley?” Jacob drawled as he took a final inventory of the skeletal remains. “I’ve seen first-years put up a better fight than that.”

“Isn’t that what you said last time?” Bill said with an amused grin. “I distinctly remember you saying something like that just before you fell into a sandpit.” 

Jacob snorted. “Fat lot of good you did back then. Rosemary was the one who had to jump in after me or did you forget?” 

“Yes, yes,” Fenn said impatiently as she joined them in the center. “Everyone performed admirably and so on.” She gestured to the room as if the rest of them were missing the obvious. “We have another pressing issue at the moment. Where’s the exit?” 

Charlie looked around. Fenn was right, there were two other openings other than the one they came through. There was just smooth, packed dirt over the chamber’s domed ceiling.

“Shouldn’t something have opened?” Clinton asked with worry. “We can’t go backward to the other tunnel, we’d be losing over an hour to go all the way back.” 

“There must be something here,” Bill insisted. He walked towards one of the walls, pointing the light from his wand up and down. “A sealed door or closed up tunnel that we need to find.” 

“Maybe we do the bloody finger eye thing again?” Jacob suggested with a shrug. “That might open something up.” 

“And just where in this giant cavern do you suggest drawing the Eye of Ra, Jacob?” Bill asked dryly. “We can’t just go drawing them willy-nilly all over the place.” 

“Willy-nilly?” Jacob asked contemptuously. “Were you raised in the fucking fifties or something? You sound like my dad, yet somehow even more irritating.” 

“Jacob,” Rosemary called warningly from behind the sarcophagus, not raising her head as she continued her appraisal of the stone. “You’re the irritating one at the moment. Go find a door.” 

Jacob gave his sister an open-mouthed stare of betrayal before turning on his heel to examine a section of wall, grumbling the entire way. 

Charlie grinned to himself. For being the youngest in her family, Rosemary was shockingly adept at wrangling her older brother. 

Fenn, Clinton, and Bill followed Jacob’s example, each taking a corner of the room to study. Charlie hesitated for a moment, before carefully approaching Rosemary as he ignored the furious glare Jacob gave. _Two years away from her must've me desperate_ , Charlie thought to himself. Jacob would surely attempt to kill him the second he could get Charlie alone. 

Rosemary must have noticed his footsteps approaching because she spoke without turning around. 

“Jacob, you’re bothering me; I told you to go look for a door…oh.” 

Rosemary looked up with surprise as she noticed Charlie's approach. “It’s you.” 

She turned back to her work. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Charlie said lowly. “I’ll move.” He stepped backward, already wincing from her rebuff when she spoke again.

“It’s alright,” Rosemary told him stiffly. “I thought you were Jacob. He asks too many questions—doesn’t let me think.” 

“Oh.” 

Charlie watched as she continued muttering to herself, her finger traveling lightly up and down the stone. He remembered what her hands felt like, tracing patterns on his skin that only she could see…

 _Snap out of it, Charlie,_ a small voice hissed in his ear. _Those are dangerous memories._ Charlie shook his head slightly, trying to clear the invasive flashback from his mind. He needed a distraction.

“What are you doing?” he blurted out before he could stop himself. Rosemary gave a short brittle laugh.

“I was wondering how long that was going to take you,” she huffed. Charlie heard a tone of amusement in her voice.

Rosemary was silent for a moment; Charlie thought she was going to tell him to clear off, but she sighed resignedly. 

“I’m translating the hieroglyphs,” she said finally. “Trying to find anything useful.” 

“Find anything?” 

“A few things,” she said shortly. Charlie paused for a moment. 

“Do you need help?” he asked waveringly. He was pushing his luck now. “I know I don’t know much about this, but I can help if you need it….” Charlie trailed off when he noticed her stiffen.

“Charlie,” Rosemary said quietly. She straightened out of her crouch and fixed him with a cold, blue stare. “You and I are not friends.” 

Charlie felt the blood drain from his face. He knew that. He had always known that. But he couldn’t help wish—wish desperately now more than ever—that it wasn’t true. 

“Find anything?”  
  
Fenn echoed Charlie’s question as she joined them. She seemed oblivious to the tension that she had broken or was at least willing enough to interrupt. Charlie let go of a breath he didn’t realize he was still holding.

“Yes,” Rosemary said, clearing her throat. “Most of its typical wording, ‘eternal life’, ‘eternal rest’, and so on. But this,” she said, tracing a finger over the middle of the sarcophagus lid. “This inscription is different.” 

“What does it say?” Fenn said, peering over Rosemary’s shoulder.

Rosemary translated carefully. “Here begins the descent...to the guardian who will never sleep.” Charlie noticed her shiver as she finished the sentence.

“Strange,” Fenn muttered. “I haven’t heard that phrase before.” 

“There’s another hieroglyph below it,” Rosemary continued. “Look.” 

Fenn squinted. “That looks like—” Her eyes widened. 

“A dragon,” Rosemary finished. She thought for a moment. “The descent…that would mean going down...stairs could work…. ” 

She brushed past Charlie as she stepped off the platform. “We need to find a dragon hieroglyph on the floor,” she announced to Bill, Jacob, and Clinton. “Be careful where you step, it might be pressure sensitive.” 

“Can I ask what is pressure-sensitive?” Jacob asked as he approached. He came up behind Charlie as he approached, and Charlie felt the jab of Jacob’s wand in the small of his back. 

“ _Watch yourself, Weasley_ ,” Jacob hissed into Charlie’s ear as he passed. Charlie pretended that he felt nothing as both Bill and Rosemary watched the quick interaction with suspicion. 

“I think there must be some stairs or a chute that will take us to the next level,” Rosemary continued. “We have to find where it is first.” 

“It goes lower?” Clinton said bug-eyed. Rosemary nodded. 

“Much lower if I’m guessing right.” 

“I say we just blow up a wall,” Jacob announced. “Easier that way anyways.” Rosemary frowned. 

“You’ll bring down the whole cavern! Just look for _this_ ,” she insisted, pointing at the marking on the slab. “It’ll be the quickest way down, I know it.” 

They got to work, searching the floor for the hieroglyph that Rosemary had found. Charlie only saw smooth dirt under his feet as he combed carefully over the ground. Rosemary’s words played over and over in his head.

Charlie, you and I are not friends.

_Charlie, you and I are not friends._

**_Charlie, you and I are not friends._ **

She was right of course. Charlie had forfeited that right a long time ago. 

* * *

_The Burrow, Two Years Ago_

Charlie sat morosely at the kitchen table. 

It was late in the night—his siblings had long since been forced to bed by their mother—but Charlie wasn’t tired. He hadn’t been sleeping well in the past few nights since the confrontation with Bill.

Bill hadn’t returned to the Burrow since he had Disapparated; the clock on the wall read ‘traveling’ under his name whenever Charlie checked it anxiously. 

His mother had kissed his head and said good night half an hour ago. Charlie felt that she had been holding back from giving him advice or a speech about doing the right thing—whatever that meant in this situation—but she had left him alone. 

Charlie was grateful for the quiet. His head was busy enough with his own voice at the moment without having to add his mother’s to the mix. 

He would have to tell Rosemary what was going on eventually, Charlie knew that. He had gone to Diagon Alley that afternoon with the intention of telling what had happened after she had left the Burrow that afternoon but lost his nerve when he saw the picture of Bill on Rosemary's desk. 

The sound of the lock clicking distracted Charlie. 

His father had come home, sweeping the pointed hat off his head as he passed the threshold into the Burrow. 

He gave Charlie a wide, worn-out smile when he noticed him sitting at the kitchen table. 

“Dad,” Charlie said with surprise. “Thought you were going to be raiding till morning.” 

His father hung up his cloak and stretched his arms out tiredly. “The Aurors got the jump on us, unfortunately, took over before we could say ‘hippogriff’.” 

He looked disappointed; no doubt there had been something interesting at the raid that his father had wanted to get his hands on. 

“Ah well,” his father continued cheerily. “At least I got to come home early.” 

He sniffed the air with interest. “Did your mother leave anything out to eat?” 

Charlie waved a hand towards the large pot of stew that his mother had left on the stove. His father rubbed his hands together eagerly. 

“Excellent.” 

Charlie watched as his father moved around the kitchen, ladling his dinner into a bowl and pulling out a cold drink from the icebox. Once his dinner was collected, he sat across from Charlie and tucked into his meal with silent gusto. 

Charlie was quiet as his father ate. He hadn’t spoken to his family much over the past few days, preferring to spend his days wandering out of doors and his nights locked in his room, only coming down for meals after everyone else had finished eating. His mother had knocked quietly on his door a few times, but for the most part, the rest of them had left him alone. 

His father scraped the last bits of stew out before letting the spoon clatter loudly against the empty bowl. He looked at Charlie for a moment before speaking. 

“Can’t sleep?”

Charlie didn’t answer at first, focusing his eyes on the kitchen table instead of his father. Finally, he sighed. 

“No.” 

His father sat quietly for a moment. Charlie could hear him weighing his words in his mind.

“Have you gone to see Rosemary?”

“I went today.” His father nodded solemnly. 

“Did you...tell her what was going on?” 

Charlie tightened his jaw. 

“No,” he answered shortly.

“Ah,” his father murmured. He removed his spectacles, rubbing them clean on his robes slowly and putting them back on before speaking.

“May I say something?” he asked carefully. “If you don’t want to hear it, that’s quite alright.” 

Charlie nodded tightly.

His father sat forward in his chair, clasping his hands together as he looked evenly at Charlie. 

“Charlie,” he started slowly. “I’m not going to lie, this is not an easy situation.” Charlie stayed silent.

“Your brother has placed you in an impossible position, between a rock and hard place,” his father sighed. “I meant what I said before. Rosemary has her own autonomy; your relationship is as much as her choice as it is yours. But I’m not going to lie to you, I can understand your brother’s hurt.” 

“Dad!” Charlie burst out. “Dad, how can you take his side?” 

“Listen!” his father insisted, holding up a pacifying hand. “I am not taking Bill’s side, _there are no sides in this_.” 

“And I’m not saying what he did was right,” he continued. “In fact, I think he went about this in just about the exact opposite of what I would have done but that’s beside the point. The point is, he’s your brother. Whether you like it or not, he’ll always be your brother.” 

“What if I don’t want him to be my brother?!” Charlie exploded, knocking his chair backward as he rocked to his feet. His father’s eyes widened as Charlie felt his hands start to tremble. “Everything he’s done and everything he just _gets_ — just because he’s _Bill Weasley_! And now he wants Rosemary too!” 

“Charlie, that’s not fair.” his father pointed out. “Your brother works incredibly hard—” 

That was the wrong thing to say to Charlie at the moment. 

“ _I_ _know how hard he works_ !” Charlie yelled. “I’ve only had it thrown in my face my _entire life_ by everyone, even you and Mum!” Charlie took a deep steadying breath, trying to steady the shaking that had taken over his body. “Except her. Rosemary is the _only one_ …who has never made me feel like second best for not being exactly like Bill.” He gave a short, choking laugh as he realized his mistake. “At least not on purpose.” 

Charlie and his father stared at each other. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Charlie, I’m sorry. The last thing I want is for you to feel like you’re not enough just for being you. You’re mother and me…” his father’s eyes misted over slightly as he continued. “Your mother and I could not be more proud of you. You have found something you love, and you’re planning to devote your life to protecting their existence.” He looked steadily at Charlie. “There is nothing that we could ask from you better than that.” 

Charlie let loose a heavy breath as the weight of his father’s words hit him. “Thank you, Dad,” he managed to choke out. 

“I know you’ll do the right thing,” his father said, following Charlie out of his chair. “You’re a man now Charlie, you don’t need me to tell you what to do anymore.” 

He clapped his hands on Charlie’s shoulders and Charlie met his eyes reticently. “You have to trust yourself a little more son,” he said quietly. “And take hold of the things you care the most about.” 

><><><><

A little later, Charlie laid on his bed staring up at the ceiling as his father’s words rang in his head. 

… _he’ll always be your brother_ … 

… _I know you’ll do the right thing_ … 

… _the last thing I want is for you to feel like you’re not enough just for being you_ … 

Maybe his father believed that…but could Charlie? 

He screwed his eyes shut as Rosemary’s face danced in front of his. The way she had wrapped her arms around Bill, the times she had blushed around him back at Hogwarts, the way they would emerge from corners laughing while Charlie would try not to drop whatever he was holding…Charlie had only ever had a chance after Bill left Hogwarts….

No. 

Charlie couldn’t believe that. 

He had two choices. Charlie could choose his brother, and lose Rosemary outright. Or he could choose Rosemary and lose her anyways when Bill entered the picture again. 

Which of those could he live with?

His room was dark and cold. Charlie flicked on the overhead light as he straightened. He sat down on the small desk in the corner of the room and pulled out a letter and three sheets of parchment from its drawers. 

The letter was from Romania. 

_Mr. Charles Weasley,_

_We’re reaching out with an extreme interest in your joining us at the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary after your upcoming graduation from Hogwarts School. You come with glowing recommendations from your professors, and the passion you have demonstrated for dragons and their care give us no doubt that you would make an excellent addition to our team…._

Charlie stared at the letter. He hadn’t told anyone about it, not even Rosemary. He had already settled on Wales when he had received it, and he thought it best not to mention it. He knew Rosemary would have pushed him to accept the post and insist that they could work it out, so Charlie had hidden it when it had arrived during owl post. 

He dipped a pen ink and began the first letter.

... _inquiring about the open apprenticeship offered previously...would like to be considered again....hope to hear from you soon…._

He finished the letter and stuffed it into a waiting envelope. Charlie would have to go into Diagon Alley to send it—Errol would never survive a trip that long—so he would have to go very early in the morning to avoid bumping into Jacob or…

Charlie couldn’t finish that thought. He would send this letter first, and the other two as soon as it’s response came back.

The second letter was short. Charlie knew what he wanted to say to his brother. 

_Bill,_

_Do what you want. It’s your turn to choose._

Charlie sealed the second envelope before he could regret it. He would give Bill the same ultimatum he had given Charlie; it was only fair. He had to protect whatever would be left of his mangled heart after he sent that letter. 

If Charlie had to give up the girl he loved for his brother, so would Bill.

The last piece of parchment sat unblemished in front of Charlie.

What could he say? What could he say to the girl he had loved since he was fourteen? 

What could he say except that he was sorry, but that he couldn’t bear being discarded in favor of his brother so he had to make her hate him so completely that it was no longer a real choice? 

Charlie had always known he was a consolation prize. He could live with it, the nagging voice in his mind that told him every time he kissed her that she would always prefer his brother. It was bearable if he could be with her. At least with Bill in Egypt, he had been able to pretend that his older brother’s shadow always loomed over him. 

Rosemary would never say anything otherwise—she was much too good for that—but she didn’t have to. 

Who would choose Charlie—only ever good at two things Charlie, second-born and second-best Charlie—over the glorious Bill Weasley? 

_Maybe Rosemary would,_ whispered a little voice deep in Charlie's mind. _Maybe she wants you._

Charlie closed his eyes. Images cropped up in front of him again. Rosemary tapping on his shoulder only to ask if he had seen his brother. Rosemary wrapped in Bill’s sweater on a cold day, with Charlie desperately wishing it was his instead. The way she would smile up at his brother when they were younger, like her hero, had just walked into the Great Hall. 

Charlie opened his eyes. _No_ , he told the voice. _She doesn’t._

Charlie began to write.

_Dear Rosemary,_

_I wish I didn’t have to write this…._

* * *

  
  


“Hey!” Charlie looked up from his search when he heard Clinton’s exclamation.

“Is this it?” Clinton called out to Rosemary from the far side of the chamber. “I think this is a dragon!” 

He used his foot to lightly brush the dirt away from the engraving. 

“Wait!” 

Rosemary cried out a warning, but it was too late. The sole of Clinton’s boot came down on the stone. Charlie saw Rosemary lung forward from the corner of his eye, her wand already outstretched.

Several things happened at once.

A heavy wall descended over the tunnel they had come through, sealing them seamlessly into the small cavern. On the opposite side, another tunnel opened up near Jacob and Bill.

The floor began to break away beneath Charlie’s feet, leaving large chasms of pitch-black space where they stood. 

And as Rosemary moved forward, Charlie watched in horror as her leg gave way through the ground that cracked around her and she slipped into the darkness. 

Charlie moved quicker than he thought possible. 

He threw himself to the floor and against the edge of the crumbling hole. Nearly half of his body was off solid ground, but all that mattered was that he felt his hand clenched tightly around Rosemary’s just before she fell too far to reach. Charlie wretched his arm upwards, but all the force he had in his arm couldn’t pull her back up to safety.

“Something’s pulling me down!” Rosemary cried out. 

Charlie looked down into the hole where Rosemary dangled precariously. She looked back up at him, her face panic-stricken as he held desperately on to her hand. 

“I’m not letting you go,” Charlie promised her, his hand tightening around her slipping her fingers. She nodded up at him; the fear in her eyes sliced through him like a cold blade.

“Help me!” Charlie screamed at the rest of the Curse-Breakers, but they had all scrambled to get to the last patch of solid ground next to the opened tunnel before they had realized what had happened to Rosemary. 

“ROSEMARY!” Jacob bellowed as he tried to jump the space that had grown between the tunnel and the next patch of unbroken floor, but Fenn yanked him backward with an arm wrapped around his torso. 

“Let me go!” Jacob snarled to her, trying to yank himself out of Fenn’s immovable grip. Charlie was panicked to feel the pull on his arm slide him forward ever so slightly.  
  
“You’ll only get yourself killed!” Fenn yelled in Jacob’s ear. “You can’t jump that far!” 

“I can’t pull her up!” Charlie shouted frantically. “I need help! Bill!” 

“Bill, don’t you move!” Fenn yelled. “The whole floor could go!” 

Bill’s face had already set in fierce determination. He angled his wand downwards, trying to patch together the crumbling floor but it continued to fall downwards around them. 

“Damn it!” Bill cursed loudly. “It’s not staying!” He pointed his wand again, and a bridge began to twist itself over the chasm, but that too fell downwards into the hole with the floor. Bill cursed again.

“It’s pulling everything down!” Charlie called back. “Nothing will stay!” He felt Rosemary claw at his arm, and he felt himself slip again as she almost twisted out from grip.

“Just stay still!” Charlie shouted down at her, Rosemary’s blue eyes flashed wildly up at him, terror etched plainly on her face. 

Fenn began pulling Bill and a still-struggling Jacob through the opened tunnel. “Come on! We can get them out afterward!”  
  
“We can’t leave them!” Bill protested angrily, twisting himself out of Fenn’s grip. Jacob pointed his wand at Fenn’s vice-like arm around his chest, and Fenn let go of Jacob as if he had burned her.  
  
“We have to go!” Fenn yelled hoarsely. “We don’t know what’s down there!” 

“I’m not leaving my sister!” Jacob screamed back at her. Bill didn’t move a muscle, he only stared down his boss in open defiance. Fenn hesitated for a moment with a desperate look to where Charlie held Rosemary to the tunnel. 

“Stay then, but I’m going through!” she yelled at Bill and Jacob. “Get back to the entrance when you have them! We’re all getting the hell out of here!” 

Fenn pushed Clinton through the tunnel before following him swiftly through. The tunnel sealed itself up behind them as soon as they disappeared. 

The floor continued to crumble beneath Jacob and Bill.

“Damn it!” Bill shouted again. “Charlie, don’t let go of her!” 

“ _Bombarda_!” Jacob yelled, pointing his wand at the sealed walls of the tunnel. A small craggy hole burst open in a cloud of stones and dust. 

“Keep holding her!” Jacob shouted desperately, just as Rosemary’s hand slipped through Charlie’s. He grabbed out wildly, taking a desperate hold of her wrist as a flood of sick relief rushed through him.

“I’m going to fall!” Rosemary screamed upwards. 

“NO, YOU’RE NOT!” Charlie bellowed back. His arm ached with the exertion, but there was no way on this Earth that he was going to let her fall.

Bill and Jacob were taking turns blasting open the small hole Jacob had made. “Charlie, all we need is some solid ground and we can get the rope out!” Bill called out. “Just hold on!” 

“Charlie!” Rosemary cried again from below him. “Charlie, the floor—it’s closing!”

Charlie realized what Rosemary meant. The cracks had begun to reseal themselves just as quickly as they had broken open. In a few short seconds, the floor would seal itself again, meaning that Charlie would either need to pull his hand away or leave it to be crushed in the ground as Rosemary fell below him. 

“Let me go!” Rosemary yelled up at him as she tried to pry his fingers off of her wrist. “We don’t both have to die down there!” 

“Damn it, don’t do that!” Charlie shouted furiously, holding Rosemary even tighter. “And don’t say that!”

Rosemary’s eyes burned into Charlie as she screamed at him again. 

“LET. ME. GO!” 

Charlie locked eyes with Rosemary as her scream rang out in the chamber. The intensity between them pulsated as the tears flowed freely down her eyes. _She thinks she’s going to die_ , Charlie thought numbly.

Fenn’s warning rang in his mind.

_If one person goes off on their own then their odds of returning above ground in one piece are damn near zero._

Charlie’s mind raced. The closing ground, the darkness below… decisions tumbled around his mind until he finally settled on the one that mattered the most.

He was not letting go of Rosemary if it killed him. 

There was only one option left in Charlie’s mind, and as a half-formed plan solidified, Charlie did the second stupidest thing he had done in his life. Charlie let the weight of the pit pull him off the ledge and into the darkness with his hand still wrapped tightly around Rosemary’s as the floor sealed up behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT THIS CHAPTER IS SO LONG. It's almost 8000 WORDS LONG. No wonder it took me forever to finish. Confession: I really hate world-building. The next few chapters are just going to be me pulling ideas out of my ass, I'm going to be really happy to get back to Diagon Alley at the end of Part 1. I'm sorry this chapter took so long, I just had to put so much in there, almost a double of what I normally write. Please, please leave a comment, I do love reading them, or even a kudos if you like the story! They really are great motivators, knowing people actually like what I write. 
> 
> Notes:  
> -Damn you Charlie and your introspection. Writing him is so wordy, he's so observant and contemplative compared to Rosemary I feel. Also, he's an insecure idiot. Like literally, he took away the exact opposite of what his dad was telling him  
> -Rosemary during the drive: "must not look at Charlie" vs Charlie during the drive: *stares at Rosemary*  
> -Dad of the Year goes to Arthur Weasley. He was always one of my favorite characters, so I love writing him.  
> -Charlie and Rosemary both thinking Fenn reminds them of McGonagall is just peak former Hogwarts student things. I guarantee Jacob and Bill think the exact same thing.  
> -Still enjoying Jacob and Bill fighting all the time while Rosemary and Charlie are quite literally wanting to cry 24/7 around each other. #siblinggoals  
> -Next week: Rosemary and Charlie are stuck together for a while. Oh, nooooooooo.


	7. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Curse-Breaker and a Dragonologist fall into an Egyptian tomb...romantic tension, anyone? Also, we go back to 1990 and Rosemary's sixth year at Hogwarts.

Chapter Seven

Rosemary thought the fall was going to be much longer. 

In one moment, Rosemary was dangling at the edge of the cracked earth as Charlie yelled at Jacob and Bill from above her, certain that she was seconds away falling into the dark unknown to die alone. In the next, Rosemary felt the rush of the pitch-black space around her as she plunged downwards. 

The only thing she could feel was the heat of Charlie’s hand holding tightly onto her wrist. His grip was even tighter than it had been as he had strained to pull Rosemary up from whatever force had drawn her downwards. 

There had been little time for Rosemary to dwell on the sensation however because just as quickly as they fell, they landed hard onto the ground below.

 _Thud_. 

_Thud._

_Crack_.

The pain was immediate. 

Rosemary gave a sharp cry as she crumpled to the ground, her arms barely outstretched quick enough to stop herself from landing face-first as her ankle rolled and snapped beneath her. Charlie landed next to her, only discernible by the rough palm still clasped tightly around her in the darkness that surrounded them.

Wheezing raggedly through the almost immobilizing pain shot up through her leg, Rosemary struggled to regain the breath that had been knocked from her lungs by the impact. She tried to sit up again but yelped again as her broken ankle protested loudly against any movement. 

Rosemary laid with her cheek against the coarse ground, fighting through the breathlessness as she focused on regaining her senses. She struggled to focus away from the pain radiating from her leg, reaching out desperately to anything to distract her from it.

There was still a warm hand wrapped around her. 

“You alright?” Rosemary managed to pant to Charlie. She extricated her wrist away from his, cognizant even through the throbbing ache that she was touching Charlie for the first time in two years. His fingers fell off of her limply, and Charlie didn’t answer.

“Charlie?” 

Rosemary pushed herself up off the ground as she realized Charlie had yet to move, sitting up as quickly as she could while doing her best to ignore the paralyzing pain. She didn’t know how far they had fallen, but Rosemary did know that if Charlie had fallen at just the wrong angle he could have snapped his neck with the strength of the impact. 

“Charlie!”

Rosemary felt blindly around for her wand; she had heard it clatter somewhere near her head when she had landed but if it was any more than a few inches away from her she wouldn’t be able to reach it. Patting the ground anxiously, relief flooded through as her fingers closed around the cool wood. 

“ _Lumos_!” 

The bright, white light that emanated from her wand washed over Rosemary. 

Dread made Rosemary’s stomach sink as she saw Charlie lying face-up on the ground next to her with closed eyes and a pale face. Rosemary dragged herself the few inches between them while her leg screamed with the pain of her rough movement, and yanked the collar of Charlie's shirt to the side with panic. She pressed two trembling fingers into the warm crook of his neck and laid an ear across his chest while listening intently.

Rosemary felt sick with relief as she felt Charlie’s heart beating strongly against her cheek and forefingers. He was unconscious, probably taking a heavy blow to the head when he had dropped against the floor.

For a brief, horrible moment, Rosemary had been overwhelmed by the thought that she could be lying next to Charlie’s lifeless body. Despite everything that had happened between them, Rosemary could scarcely begin to imagine what seeing something like that would do to her. 

Rosemary had already seen one too many people she loved die.

She pushed those thoughts away as she struggled to straighten herself while avoiding putting weight on her injured leg. Instead, Rosemary tried to place her focus on taking inventory of the situation they had fallen into.

The wind had indeed been knocked out of her, but at the very least Rosemary’s ankle seemed to be her only pressing injury. By some unbelievable miracle, her wand had fallen only inches away from her and was still clenched tightly in her hand as she moved the light over the space they had fallen. 

Charlie still hadn’t stirred. 

The sight was quite worrying. His face looked near bloodless in the dark that surrounded them; the only color came from the sheer number of freckles on his face as he lay sprawled and limp. 

Rosemary would have to wake him up; if something came rushing toward them at that very moment then there wouldn’t be much for them to do other than await certain death. She didn’t know much about head injuries, but Rosemary had been treated from enough of them by Madam Pomfrey to know that a healing potion should be administered quickly. 

She fumbled with the clasp of one of the pouches of her utility belt and rooted around in the pocket until she was finally able to extract one of the small bottles that she carried with her. Rosemary would have to pour it down Charlie’s throat herself, but her injured leg made the logistics of that rather difficult. 

Dragging herself slowly until she was sitting near Charlie’s head, Rosemary lifted Charlie’s head upwards and slid her good thigh underneath him with difficulty until he rested comfortably against her with his head tilted upwards. 

“Come on,” Rosemary murmured as she tipped the contents of the tiny bottle into Charlie’s mouth. “Wake up now, Charlie.” 

Charlie twitched slightly under Rosemary as the potion bottle emptied, but his eyes remained closed. Rosemary groaned with frustration. The potion wasn’t strong enough to heal the blow quickly. She would have to wake him up the old-fashioned way, head injury be damned. 

Rosemary brushed the sweat-damp hair away from Charlie’s forehead. It was a familiar gesture. She had done it often during their seventh year whenever they had found a quiet piece of shade in the afternoons at the edge of the Black Lake as they pretended to be studying for their N.E.W.T.s. 

A sigh left Rosemary’s lips as her fingers swept lightly over Charlie’s temple. There was an odd feeling inside her, a softness for the boy lying in front of her that she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Maybe it was the fact that Charlie wasn’t actually conscious, or maybe it was the burning look in his eyes as he had fought his damnedest against the weight of whatever had been pulling her down, but she was reminded of the way they had been at Hogwarts when it was just them alone. The anger and the bitterness that had been gnawing away at Rosemary’s insides since she had arrived in Egypt was still there, but now it was tinged with a feeling that almost felt like longing. 

Almost. 

They couldn’t sit still, Rosemary knew that. Only Merlin knew how many beings Rosemary and Charlie had awoken with their conspicuous fall, and if they stayed in one place it wouldn’t be long until those things eventually came to find them. 

But there was a small part of Rosemary that wanted to stay just as she was for as long as she could. 

Charlie gave another small groan that shook Rosemary out of her reverie.

Rosemary flicked her wand upwards, sending the light from its tip floating upwards so it hovered over them while she Revived Charlie. Taking a deep steadying breath, Rosemary pointed her wand purposefully at Charlie’s face. 

“ _Rennervate_.” 

Rosemary's heart gave a jolt as Charlie’s eyes popped with a start, staring directly up at her. Rosemary cursed herself for idiocy in her mind. She had completely forgotten to move Charlie off of leg before reviving him, and now they were staring wide-eyed at each other.

Her heart thudded unevenly as Charlie gawped up at her, his warm brown eyes looking slightly bewildered before realization washed over his face, and she felt themselves both go still under the soft light from above. 

“Hullo,” Charlie said gravely, the intensity in his eyes threatening to overwhelm Rosemary if she didn’t.

Rosemary yanked her leg out from under Charlie’s head, grimacing at both the still agonizing pain in her leg and the fact that her quick movement meant that the back of Charlie’s bounced hard against the dirt-packed floor.

“Sorry!” Rosemary blurted, although the tone of relief in her voice couldn’t be hidden. 

“Ow,” Charlie said gingerly, wincing as he placed his hand on the back of his head. 

“Be careful standing up,” Rosemary told him, struggling to ensure her voice was even as she spoke. “I think you may have hit your head on your way down.” 

“I think I hit my head,” Charlie echoed, rubbing his head as he eased himself carefully to his feet. Rosemary tried to follow him up, but her ankle collapsed underneath her and she fell with a grunt back onto her rear. Charlie looked alarmed.

“I gave you a healing potion,” Rosemary told him through gritted teeth, looking downwards to avoid the painfully concerned look on his face. The pain in her ankle had returned full force, and Rosemary struggled to take normal breaths as she continued to speak. “You should feel better the more time goes on, but you should take another one if you feel woozy. Are you dizzy?”

Charlie didn’t answer her question. “What’s wrong? Where are you hurt?” he asked Rosemary in a slightly higher pitched voice than Rosemary would consider normal.

“My ankle is broken,” Rosemary admitted. “Heard it snap when I landed.” 

Rosemary looked up as she took inventory of the space where they had fallen through. It was a long tunnel, almost identical to the one that had taken them to the chamber with the mummies except this one had unlit torches lining its walls. The ceiling was completely closed; no light or sound came through from above. 

“Broken?” Charlie asked her, derailing Rosemary’s assessment. She looked back towards him; his brow was deeply furrowed as he looked down at her. “Can you stand up?” 

“I think so,” Rosemary answered, even though she could scarcely bear to move her toes any more than a millimeter. “I am going to have to wrap it first.”  
  
Charlie crouched down next to her and outstretched his hand as if to touch her leg, before seeming to think better of it and instead raked it anxiously through his hair. “Can’t you take a healing potion too?” 

“It’ll heal my foot in the wrong position, and it’ll be a lot more painful in the long run,” Rosemary explained tightly. The pain was dizzying now, and Rosemary’s head slumped downwards as the room began to spin in circles around her. 

“Rosemary,” Charlie whispered, and Rosemary vaguely felt him shaking her shoulder softly through her shakiness. “Rosemary?”

Rosemary felt the touch on her shoulder like it was an open flame. 

“I’m fine!” she snapped at him. Charlie snatched his hand back, and the look on his face made Rosemary feel like she had just kicked a wounded puppy. 

It was the same expression Charlie had given Rosemary when he had approached her while she had been studying the hieroglyphs.

_Charlie, you and I are not friends._

She had meant it. But why had saying it aloud make Rosemary feel so sick?

“I’m fine,” Rosemary repeated, although this time she tried to remove some of the venom from her words. She gave Charlie a sideways look; his face was hard now. 

“Are you?” Charlie asked blithely. “You look sort of... _green_.” 

“Thank you for that,” Rosemary said bitingly, the words coming out angrily before she could remember that she was attempting to be civil. “I need to splint my ankle. It’ll help with the pain and at least get me mobile.” 

“Maybe you should rest for a bit before moving,” Charlie told her, the panicked tone returning.

“We need to move,” Rosemary said insistently. “We’re both injured, and we don’t know what’s down here. The sooner we get out of here, the better.” 

“Can you even walk?” Charlie said doubtfully. Rosemary decided to ignore him as she pointed her wand at her ankle. 

“ _Ferula_ ,” she muttered, and white bandages began to wrap themselves tightly around her ankle, immobilizing the break as best as possible. The pain began to subside gradually as the wand finished its job.

“That’ll have to do,” Rosemary sighed. She looked up at Charlie again. “Unless you know any healing spells from the dragons?”

“We use a salve for the burns usually,” Charlie admitted ruefully. “Anything else the medics will take care of.”  
  
“Right.” Rosemary looked around at the ground before realizing that she wouldn’t be able to stand up on her own. “I’m…going to need some help,” she confessed. Heat crept up her neck and into her cheeks. 

“Oh,” Charlie said as her meaning dawned on him. “Er…yes.” 

He straightened to his feet and extended his hands down to Rosemary who took them hesitantly. Charlie pulled her up firmly as Rosemary tried to avoid placing weight on her injured ankle and drew herself up with too much strength. As Rosemary fully straightened herself he found herself face to face with Charlie, her hands enveloped in his. 

If she moved forward a few inches, she could have kissed him. He could’ve kissed her. 

Instead, Rosemary pulled back. “The wall,” Rosemary said quietly. “Can you take me to the wall please?” 

Charlie didn’t respond, his face was unreadable as he helped her hop awkwardly to the passage wall. Rosemary poked at the wall with her wand. She didn’t have the energy to perform the usual tests to make sure there wasn’t a jinx on it, and she needed to get out of Charlie’s hold before she fainted from the sheer sensation of being so close to him again. 

The wall seemed safe enough, and Rosemary collapsed against it with relief. She bit her lip as she looked down at her injured ankle. Although she doubted it could bear weight at the moment if they didn’t get moving soon then their chances of finding the exit safely diminished greatly. 

Rosemary took a tentative step with her right leg. A sharp, throbbing pain tore through her ankle, and she cried out in pain as she fell forward. She fully expected to hit the ground hard again, but instead, Rosemary found herself suspended a few feet from the ground by two tight arms around her waist. 

She felt Charlie, broad and warm around her as he steadied her, pulling her up to chest as she struggled to regain her footing.

“Rosemary, be careful!” Charlie exclaimed next to her ear.

“Thank you.”

The shaking in Rosemary’s voice was undeniable. She could smell smoke and the faintest trace of honeysuckle on him. Rosemary reached an arm out to the wall again. 

“Please let go of me now.” 

Charlie released her immediately. Rosemary placed her forehead against the cool stone wall of the passageway as she struggled to recenter herself. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Charlie. At the moment even making eye contact with him threatened the tenuous hold she had on the tears in her eyes. 

* * *

_Hogwarts Castle, Sixth Year Defense Against the Dark Arts, 1990_

_This class is never going to end._

Rosemary sat stonily in her seat as she watched the sweaty, disheveled, and most likely inebriated professor prattle on and on at the front of the class.

Their professor this year was an absolute moron, the entirety of Hogwarts school knew it. Wostley Duncarin was supposed to have been with the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol, but the rumor was around Hogwarts that he had only been with the patrol for two years before getting sacked. The pickings for the Defense post this year must have been slim for Dumbledore to have had to scrape the bottom of the barrel. 

Rosemary had spent the last few months ignoring Professor Duncarin’s idiotic ramblings and staring off into the distance or passing notes with Penny and Tonks who sat next to her and behind her respectively—anything rather than having to listen to any more of his incessant blathering. 

Duncarin was the awful mixture of someone both completely devoid of any real knowledge and utterly incapable of accepting that fact. He had attempted to teach them the Patronus Charm a few weeks ago, which had only brought to light the fact that Duncarin was under the impression that Dementors were killable and therefore a Patronus was useless and got extremely irate when refuted. 

At least he barely showed up to class after the first few weeks of term, and instead used the hour to get drunk on firewhiskey at The Three Broomsticks and hit on anyone who walked in—according to Madam Rosemerta on their last trip to Hogsmeade.

Sometimes, however—like today, much to Rosemary's extreme irritation—Duncarin got the urge to play teacher and spout utter drivel at them for the duration of the lecture. Rosemary and her fellow sixth years had to sit in dumbfounded silence as Duncarin spouted off whatever he had thought of in the mirror that morning. 

In truth, Duncarin had made Rosemary’s decision easier in the last few weeks.

She had been seventeen for a few months now; Rosemary could leave Hogwarts now by her own volition without her wand being confiscated. Her father and mother wouldn’t be happy, but Rosemary didn’t think she could spend another year stuck in Hogwarts while Rakepick was still out there.

Rosemary had formulated a bit of a plan. She would have to find Jacob first. He sent her frustratingly vague and extremely short letters every so often, but aside from that Rosemary had no idea where he was. After she located him, she would have to leave quickly, out of sight, and without a fuss so that her friends couldn’t try to convince her otherwise. Rosemary already felt guilty enough, just by going over her plan in her mind surrounded by her friends. Imagining the looks on their faces when she told them she was leaving Hogwarts early would make things harder than they had to be. 

But Rosemary had to leave. There was no rest, no peace until she found Rakepick and avenged Rowan. No matter what it took, and no matter what she lost. 

Duncarin’s speech interrupted Rosemary’s train of thought. Today he had written out read ‘Non-Verbal Spells’ on the blackboard and just below it ‘Ineffective’ in a barely legible script.

“You’re not even saying the words, so of course they’re not going to do anything! I swear, the professors just made them up to find another way to fail you! I never did one, and I turned out fine!” Duncarin was looking at them triumphantly as if had just come up with something very enlightened; his words were slightly slurred. 

Rosemary exchanged a disgusted side-eye with Penny. Even Rosemary could appreciate Duncarin’s idiocy; Flitwick and McGonagall had been drilling them with non-verbals since their first day of term, and here this lout was calling them useless because he had never actually been able to cast one. 

A snort sounded from Rosemary’s left. Across the aisle, Charlie Weasley and the other Gryffindor Fletcher Thorin were snickering under their breath. “D’you reckon they had to come up with ‘Troll’ on the O.W.L. 's just for him?” she heard Thorin whisper, and Charlie was unable to muffle his snigger from Duncarin. 

Charlie must have felt Rosemary looking at him because he turned and gave Rosemary a wide grin as Duncarin stamped toward his and Thorin’s desk. 

Rosemary felt a strange tightening in her chest as she smiled back at him. She and Charlie had always been good friends, ever since Bill had brought them together in their fourth year, but lately, Rosemary had been feeling an odd fluttering around her middle whenever he got a little too close to her. 

Duncarin smacked his hand against Charlie’s desk; the clap rang out loudly and made the whole class jump. “Is something funny, Mr. Weasley?” Duncarin asked nastily. 

Charlie’s head snapped up, and he squared his shoulder’s defiantly. “No, Professor,” he replied, but Rosemary could still see the smile playing on his lips. 

Apparently, Duncarin could see it too, because his face contorted angrily. Rosemary grimaced; this was not going to be pretty. 

“Do you have any objections to how I run my classroom, Weasley?” Duncarin demanded. 

“No, Professor,” Charlie answered. 

“Then I suggest you take that look off your face unless you think you could do better.” 

“He probably could, and so could half this classroom,” Rosemary muttered under her breath to Penny tittered behind her hand. A little too loudly, unfortunately, because Duncarin expression turned even angrier.

“Ms. Woodward,” Duncarin said loudly, turning towards Rosemary. “Do you have anything to add to this discussion?”

Rosemary struggled to keep her face even as she echoed Charlie. “No, Professor.” 

“Are you sure?” Duncarin seethed, stumbling a bit as he walked to Rosemary’s desk. Rosemary raised her chin stubbornly, refusing to show any fear. Years of dealing with nasty Slytherins, arrogant Ravenclaws, and brash Gryffindors had desensitized her to people like Duncarin whose heads were so filled with hot air that they could barely touch the ground. 

“Because if you have a problem with my methods,” Duncarin continued, “then why don’t you come up and show me how much better you are?” 

“Sir?” Rosemary asked with confusion. 

“Come on up!” Duncarin slurred, brandishing wildly to the front of the classroom. “Show me what a _real_ Curse-Breaker can do!” 

“You want me to duel you?” Rosemary asked Duncarin incredulously. 

“ _You_ will try to jinx me without speaking. _If_ you land a hit, you win. If you don’t—” Duncarin grinned nastily. “I take fifty points from Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. Each.”

The whole class burst into protest. 

“But Professor—” 

“Sir, that’s not fair—”

“Why _Gryffindor_?” 

“Quiet!” Duncarin said, holding a firm hand that went ignored as the class continued their complaints out loud. “I’ll be nice Ms. Woodward,” Duncarin said with mock graciousness, speaking over the din of the classroom. “If you concede right now, I’ll only take away twenty-five.” 

Rosemary stood up in her chair as the rest of the class went silent as they stared.

“Rosemary, don’t risk it!” Penny said with a yank to Rosemary’s sleeve. Rosemary gave her a blithe smile before shaking her hand off lightly. 

“Don’t worry Penny,” Rosemary soothed, letting artificial sweetness ooze into her voice as she pushed her chair into her desk. “I’m sure Professor Duncarin will go easy on me, he has _so_ much more experience than me in these situations that it will hardly be a fair fight.” 

Duncarin looked like a cat who had eaten the canary. “Go ahead Ms. Woodward,” he said ushering her to the front of the class. Rosemary walked carefully around him, passing her friends who had varying degrees of incredulous expressions, including Tonks who whispered a helpful ‘get him Rosemary’ as she passed, a shrewd Andre Egwu who seemed to be evaluating the odds of each outcome, and Barnaby who just gave Rosemary a wide-eyed but enthusiastic thumbs up. 

Once Rosemary had situated herself at the front of the class, she looked out into the room. In a sea of anxious faces staring at her with their nerves displayed plainly on their face, only one freckled face stood out. Charlie was watching her too, but he was positively beaming at her. Everyone else seemed to be mixed between anxiety and doubt, but Charlie almost looked…proud. 

Rosemary spared him a small smile before turning Duncarin who had taken his position across from her. “Mr. Lee,” Duncarin said to slightly startled Barnaby in the front row. “Why don’t you do us the honor of counting us down?” 

“Yes, Professor,” Barnaby agreed nervously. Rosemary pulled out her wand from her robe sleeve; Duncarin took his out lazily. 

Rosemary and Duncarin bowed simultaneously, and Rosemary inhaled deeply as she readied herself. “On the count of three,” Barnaby said shakily. “One...two...three!” 

Duncarin had barely opened his mouth when the flash of white light from Rosemary’s wand hit him squarely in the chest. He fell backward, body completely stiff as the Full Body-Curse snapped his limbs together. 

Rosemary grinned with relief as the classroom burst into raucous applause and whoops. Perhaps all the homework that Flitwick and McGonagall had left them on non-verbal spells were useful after all. 

She walked over to Duncarin’s prone, statuelike body. “Are you alright, Professor?” she asked innocently as she stood over him. “Don’t worry sir, we’ll get you up in no time. _Finite!_ ” 

A red light came from Rosemary’s wand, and Duncarin sat up abruptly with his face a deep faced red. Rosemary offered her hand down to the sputtering man, but he shoved it roughly aside as he heaved himself to his feet. 

“Well,” Duncarin spit out. “Well done, Ms. Woodward.”

He had an extremely unpleasant look on his face despite the compliment, and he turned to look at Rosemary with his eyes glinting cruelly. 

“It is a shame you couldn’t have learned non-verbal spells in time to save poor Miss Khanna, isn’t it Miss Woodward?” 

The gasps that went around were a dull roar in Rosemary’s ears as the ice flooded through her veins. 

“That’s bang out of order!” she heard someone yell from behind her above the clamors that had burst in the classroom once again, but Rosemary couldn’t tell who it was. 

She was too far away to hear anything. Rosemary was a mile away, outside of the castle, across the Black Lake, and past the Whomping Willow. She was deep in the Forbidden Forest, watching as the green light flashed and her friend fell dead to the ground and the screams filled her ears but she couldn’t remember if they were hers…. 

“Sit down, Miss Woodward,” Duncarin hissed in her ear. Rosemary walked numbly, unable to make eye contact with her classmates as she walked numbly down the aisle. She didn’t stop when she reached her seat, instead, she continued down past the rest of the desks. 

“Come back here Ms. Woodward!” Duncarin yelled from behind her, but he may as well have been underwater by how far away his voice sounded. “Get back here this instant!” 

Rosemary began running full tilt once she reached the classroom doors, bursting into a sprint down the corridor as the tears began to run hot and fast burning down her cheeks.  
  
Where she was going, Rosemary didn’t know. She ran through the castle until her legs were burning, avoiding the staircases as much as possible as she looked for anywhere safe.

_Rowan._

_Rowan._

_Rowan._

Her name was a scream in Rosemary’s mind, a cry of anguish that never quieted, only barely able to ignore it during the day until night came and Rosemary sobbed into her pillow to not wake up Penny and Tonks. 

Rosemary couldn’t run anymore, she was scarcely able to tell what part of the castle she was in. She yanked open the first door that came up in front of her. It was a tiny broom closet, with an equally tiny window where Rosemary landed on her knees as her legs gave away underneath her. 

She couldn’t have been there more than a few seconds when she heard the door creak open. Rosemary didn’t turn around, only hurriedly wiped the tears from her eyes as she stared out the window. 

“Please leave,” she whispered. Whoever was behind her didn’t move. “I want to be alone!” Rosemary snapped as she whipped her head around towards the doorway. 

“Charlie,” Rosemary stammered. She had not been expecting the red-head boy, instead of imagining Penny or Tonks following her to provide whatever comfort they thought might help. Instead, it was Charlie, looking steadily at her with an inscrutable look on his face. 

“Rosemary?” 

It was just her name, spoken softly in a dingy broom closet but it was enough. Huge wracking sobs broke over Rosemary as she wrapped her arms tightly around her midsection as if that would stop her from falling apart. 

Rosemary didn’t feel Charlie move. In one moment he was standing still just past the closet doorway, in the next her face was buried into his shoulder as Rosemary tried to muffle the barely controlled cries. 

She didn’t know how long she cried. It must have been a while, but Charlie didn’t say anything, instead just wrapped his arms loosely around her while she fought to regain her composure. 

“I’m sorry,” Rosemary spluttered as finally as she lifted her head. She gave a strangled sort of laugh as she realized how damp Charlie’s shoulder was. “I ruined your robes.” 

“Nah,” Charlie said with a small smile. “I’d already gotten sloth brain on it in Potions this morning. Your snot is nothing compared to that.” He wrinkled his nose with disgust. 

Rosemary choked out another laugh that came out more like a hysterical giggle that made Charlie look slightly alarmed. 

They were silent for a moment. Charlie spoke first.

“He’s an ass, Rosemary,” Charlie said quietly. Rosemary sighed. 

“Charlie, don’t—”

“He is!” Charlie said louder, the agitation rising in his voice. “You know he is, _everyone_ knows he is! Everything out of his mouth is utter rubbish!” 

“That’s not the point, Charlie!” Rosemary insisted, her voice following Charlie’s upwards. “That’s never been the point!” 

“Then what is the point?” Charlie countered pointedly. Rosemary was silent. 

“The point…” Rosemary said slowly, dreading having to say her next sentence. “The point is that I can’t be here anymore.” 

“Here where?” 

“Hogwarts.” 

Rosemary’s heart thudded in her ears as she finally spoke the words that had been circling in her mind for weeks. 

“Hogwarts?” Charlie asked, his voice taking on the strangled tone that Rosemary’s had had. “You’re leaving Hogwarts because of that...that _prick_?” 

“I am not leaving because of Duncarin,” Rosemary replied hotly. 

“Then why?” 

Rosemary sank her face into the palms of her hands. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” Rosemary said to Charlie, her voice slightly muffled. “Every minute I spend here is a minute that Rakepick gets away with what she did.” 

“Rosemary, she’ll get what’s coming to her.” Charlie insisted, the anger in his voice melting into pleading. “There are dozens of Aurors looking for her; they’ll find her and chuck her straight into Azkaban.” 

“I need to do this,” Rosemary said vehemently. “Not Aurors who didn't even know Rowan and definitely don’t care about her. Me.” 

“Rosemary, we’re barely seventeen!” Charlie said with exasperation. “She’s been a Curse-Breaker for years, you’ll get yourself killed!” 

“You don’t understand—”

“Then _tell_ me—” 

“IT’S MY FAULT!” Rosemary exploded, launching herself to her feet. “Rakepick might have killed Rowan, but she died because of _me_!” 

Charlie stared wide-eyed at her. “Rosemary…” 

“ _Don’t_ tell me it’s not true Charlie, you and I both know that it’s all my fault. She went into that forest for _me_ ,” Rosemary raged, pacing back and forth as she continued angrily. 

“Penny and Tonks are total wrecks, Merula barely even talks anymore, I haven’t even _seen_ Ben this week, and Rowan is dead! And it’s because of me because I couldn’t leave well enough alone, because of what I did—” 

Rosemary couldn’t continue as the words caught in her throat as the tears threatened to overwhelm her again. She slid against the wall of the broom closet; exhaustion had overtaken her as the lack of sleep caught up to her.

“What am I supposed to do now Charlie?” Rosemary said quietly. “I can’t stay at Hogwarts, all I’ll do is get someone else hurt. I’m seventeen now, I can leave without them breaking my wand.”

“Rowan wouldn’t want you to leave,” Charlie countered.

“Rowan wouldn’t want anyone else to die,” Rosemary shot back.

“Do you think that doesn’t include you?” 

“I can take care of myself Charlie, you know I can,” Rosemary said pointedly, remembering her duel with Duncarin. 

“You’re shockingly advanced skills aside,” Charlie said. “Rakepick has decades on you. Do you really think you can beat her one-on-one?” Rosemary scowled as she thought for a moment. 

“I’ll find Jacob.”

“Do you even know where he is? Do you even know where Rakepick is? As soon as she hears you left Hogwarts and out of Dumbledore's eye, she’ll come after you. You know she will.” 

“That’s up to me to deal with,” Rosemary said stubbornly. 

Charlie switched tactics. “We can help you deal with it! Do you think I haven’t noticed, what you've been like? You hardly eat, you _never_ sleep, you’re like a ghost sometimes that’s just wandering from class to class. It’s terrifying.” 

“I can’t risk letting anyone else getting hurt.”

“So you won’t even give us the choice?” Charlie challenged. 

“Not if the choice means you getting hurt!”

“So you can get hurt, just not anyone else? Rosemary, can’t you hear how ridiculous that sounds?” 

“Ridiculous?” Rosemary asked sharply. “I’m being ridiculous?” 

“That’s not what I said and you know it.” 

“I have to, Charlie,” Rosemary said finally. “I just have to.” There was a beat of silence.

“Fine. Let’s go then,” Charlie said gruffly as he stood up. 

“What?” Rosemary asked confusedly. 

“You want to leave?” Charlie said flatly. “Fine. I’ll leave with you.”  
  
Rosemary rolled her eyes. “You can’t go with me Charlie, the whole point of this is to keep you lot safe.” 

“You can’t stop me, I’m seventeen too,” Charlie said smugly. “I already wanted to leave at the beginning of term and you were the one who stopped me, do you remember that?” 

“Yes, I remember!” Rosemary retorted. “And I repeat what I said. You can’t just leave Hogwarts!”  
  
“And why not?” 

Charlie stared down at Rosemary, his eyes harder and more determined than she had ever seen them. The heart of what he was telling her finally sunk in. Rosemary felt the agitation bleed out of her as the weariness continued to set deep in her bones. Charlie seemed to recognize the change in her as his rigid stance relaxed. 

“I just don’t know what I would do if someone else I loved died because of me, Charlie.” 

Charlie sat down next to Rosemary. His leg just barely grazed hers as he settled. 

“We won’t let anyone else get hurt Rosemary,” Charlie said resolutely. “I promise. Just... _stay_. Please.” 

Rosemary turned to look at him. He was only a few inches away from her, his deep brown eyes looking intently at her as if he would be able to tell if she would leave or not just by her eyes. 

_He probably could_ , Rosemary thought to herself. The tightening in her chest from earlier returned even stronger than before as they looked at each other for one still moment. 

She broke her gaze away, the heat flushing Rosemary’s cheeks, ears, and neck. She coughed, trying to clear the knot from her throat. Beside her, Charlie rubbed his neck awkwardly. 

Rosemary sighed wearily. “Merlin, I’m tired.” 

Charlie chuckled lightly. “I reckon you probably are. When was the last time you slept, Rosemary?” 

Rosemary looked up at the cobweb-covered ceiling. “I don't really seem to remember at the moment.” 

“You’re welcome to sleep for a while. I reckon you have a few hours before they come looking for you.” 

“Don’t remind me,” Rosemary groaned. “Professor Sprout is going to kill me.” 

“I think you’re overestimating our professor’s tolerance for Duncarin,” Charlie grinned. “I’m pretty sure he was the ‘abominable twat’ she mentioned to McGonagall the other day when she thought no one could hear.” 

Rosemary giggled at the thought of Professor Sprout calling anyone a twat, even Duncarin. 

“C’mon,” Charlie said, patting his shoulder invitingly. Rosemary’s eyes widened as she realized what he was offering. “You can even put a Body-Bind on me so I won’t move.” He laughed at his own joke.

“Not funny,” Rosemary muttered, but she couldn’t help but smile back at him. Her heart was beating too fast. 

Rosemary carefully laid her head against Charlie’s shoulder; it was still a little damp from her tears but was wide and warm, just as she imagined it would be. She closed her eyes, welcoming the opportunity to get sleep after weeks of fits of restlessness every night. Charlie’s breath was low and even as she leaned a little closer against his arm.

“It’ll be okay, Rosemary,” Charlie said quietly as Rosemary began to feel herself drowsing off. 

_I know_ , Rosemary wanted to say as sleep overtook her. _I know it will be._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone :) This chapter took a while; I unfortunately lost two family members to COVID this weekend and couldn't get very much writing done. Please, please wear your masks and maintain social distancing; you might be saving a life. 
> 
> This chapter is a bit short, I focused a bit more on building angst and backstory rather than advancing the plot along. There are about three chapters left to Part One, and then we'll be time-skipping forward a year in Part Two as we get into the events of Goblet of Fire. Next chapter will be a long one as we finish tomb-raiding, then we have one more chapter in Egypt before the last chapter of Part One in Diagon Alley. Thank you so much for reading, please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoy the story so far, or if you have any questions/comments! Remember to check out @penandlily on tumblr for fic updates and extra content. Much love. -Lily
> 
> Notes:  
> -Rosemary last chapter: Charlie, I basically hate you. *Charlie Gets Slightly Hurt* Rosemary: oh my god i can't believe the love of my life is dead.  
> -Honestly, this whole chapter is Rosemary and Charlie trying (and failing) to care less than they do.  
> -I played around with what post-O.W.L. schedules look like; Houses should have to have been combined by them since there's only like 8-12 students every year per House.  
> -Kind of made a Snape, Lockhart, Umbridge amalgam for the Defense professor he just straight up SUCKS. I called him Duncarin cause it reminded me of the word dunce.  
> -And so the Circle of Khanna was born. No worries if you're not an HPHM player, I only use it as a way to establish background and relationships. Basically an evil curse breaker murdered Rosemary's best friend Rowan in their sixth year, and she carries a lot of guilt and trauma from her death.  
> -"abominable twat' don't blame me I watched easy a today and the phrase was begging to be used. 
> 
> -Next chapter: Tombs, treasures, dragons, oh my!


	8. Eternal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rosemary and Charlie need to work together to stay alive, and we get a flashback to a Qudditch game and a kiss.

Chapter Eight

_Breathe Rosemary. Just breathe._

The trembling that shuddered through Rosemary began to ebb and calm as she breathed in deeply; the cool air rushed in and out of her lungs soothingly, and gave her something to focus on other than the sensation that had been left by Charlie’s arms that felt like a white-hot chain around her midsection. The dirt wall scraped against her forehead, but she kept it pressed tightly against the craggy surface as she blinked away the brimming tears. 

This had been an absolutely horrid idea, she knew that now. Rosemary should have turned around and left without so much as a backward glance the moment she had heard Charlie’s voice yesterday. She had deluded herself into thinking she possessed the strength to pretend that she felt less than she did. 

Merlin, Rosemary wished for nothing more than to feel absolutely nothing for Charlie Weasley. 

“I’m sorry,” Charlie whispered, so low that Rosemary could barely hear him. 

“Sorry for what?” Rosemary managed to ask, even though the words came out strangled in her throat. Charlie didn’t answer.

This had to stop, the aching pain in Rosemary’s heart that had not stopped since yesterday. It hurt more than every other bruise, cut, or crack on Rosemary’s body and bewildered Rosemary to the point of dizziness. It took quite a bit to make Rosemary feel seventeen again, but Charlie Weasley had accomplished it in less than twenty-four hours. 

“Rosemary…” Charlie began to speak, but Rosemary was far past listening to anything he had to say. 

“Look,” Rosemary said bluntly, whirling around as best she could without adding further injury to her foot. She stared Charlie down; his mouth was pressed into a thin line as if he was holding himself back from speaking, but Rosemary had finally let go of the resentment that she had been holding back. 

“Neither of us wants to be here,” Rosemary said, giving a mirthless laugh at the understatement. “The _last_ thing I want—just like the last thing you want, I’m sure—is to be alone together but we are well past that now, aren’t we?” 

Charlie didn’t interrupt. He only stared at her, unflinching and solemn. 

“ _If we don’t get out of here, we will die_ ,” Rosemary hissed. “You’re not a Curse-Breaker and I can hardly walk, so it seems like we’re going to have to figure something out.” 

“But after that—” Rosemary hesitated, looking away from Charlie as the next sentence bubbled at the edge of her tongue. She had never lied to Charlie before, but was it really a lie if Rosemary wanted nothing more than to mean it? 

“I never want to see you again.” 

Rosemary was shaking again; the fervent, uneven thudding of her heart made her feel physically ill. 

There was a beat of still silence as Charlie’s eyes bored into hers before he spoke, his voice tense and clipped. 

“Alright.” There was a pause before he added, “If that’s how you want it.” 

“ _If that’s how I want it?_ ” Rosemary repeated disbelievingly; a wave of red flooded over her as Rosemary was filled with blinding rage. “And just tell me exactly how _I_ want things to be, Charlie?” 

The accusation could not have been more clear if Rosemary had painted it on the wall, and Charlie—whether unconsciously or not, Rosemary didn’t know—stumbled back a step. 

“You are an unbelievable and unmitigated _arsehole_ ,” Rosemary spat out, following Charlie’s movement despite the shooting pain that protested against the small step forwards. “And I won’t let you sit here, and act like I’m the one who is making things difficult. That is on _you_ , and what you’ve _done_!”

Rosemary snarled the last word with a firm jab into Charlie’s chest; her fingers made a divot in Charlie’s chest with the force of her gesture. Charlie looked down at her hand briefly, before flickering his eyes upwards to Rosemary. 

Despite the otherwise complete inexpressiveness of his face, there was something unfamiliar in the back of his eyes, a piercing, scorching flash of emotion that Rosemary had never seen before on Charlie. It was gone before Rosemary could decipher it’s meaning, replaced by a look of empty detachment. Charlie’s eyes flickered downwards at the hand still pressed into his sternum. 

Suddenly, Rosemary was all too aware of the fact that the step she had taken forward meant that she and Charlie were now nearly chest to chest. It was Rosemary’s turn to skitter backward away from the proximity, and she felt the wall press stiffly into her back as she moved away from Charlie.

They were motionless statues for a moment, neither able to break a tension so thick that it felt heavy on Rosemary’s shoulders as she struggled to regain control of her anger. 

Charlie spoke slowly, pausing carefully between each word. 

“I know you hate me,” Charlie croaked out. “I know that isn’t going to change. And that’s alright. I deserve as much.” Each word he spoke sounded painful to Rosemary; each one was a stab in her chest as Charlie continued.

“But,” Charlie continued. “What’s done is done. I can’t take anything I’ve done back; I can’t make you hate me any less. But I don’t want to die down here, and the very last thing I would ever want on this Earth is to see you dead.” Charlie took one shaky breath, and Rosemary could have sworn she saw him pale under the orb of light overhead.

“So you’re right. We’re going to have to figure something out, to get out of here, and then I will stay as far away from you as you want me to be.” 

Rosemary stared at Charlie for a moment, fighting between the urge to let go of another tirade of bottled bitterness and the all too pressing knowledge that every moment she yelled at Charlie was another moment wasted in all too dangerous conditions. 

Rosemary exhaled slowly, letting the tension ease from her shoulders as she tampered her anger downward and finally broke the tense eye-contact between her and Charlie. 

“I’m going to need crutches to move,” Rosemary muttered to Charlie’s general direction, electing to pretend she had never said anything. “It’ll be slow going, but we have to move.” 

“Will you be able to?” Charlie asked; his voice sounded strained. “You should rest—if you need to—before we start walking.” 

“You heard what Fenn said,” Rosemary said. “We’ll be lucky enough to even make it out in one piece now that we’re separated from the rest of them. And this—” she gestured at her bandaged ankle. “This doesn’t help the situation at all. I won’t be as good in a fight like this if it comes down to it.” 

Charlie still didn’t look convinced. 

“We can’t stay still,” Rosemary insisted. “We’ve stayed here long enough as it is. We won’t make it out just the two of us; we need to either find the others or find the exit. Whichever comes first.” 

Charlie finally nodded tightly. “Alright,” he agreed. 

Conjuring the crutches was a simple task; with a wave of her wand, a sturdy pair appeared in front of Rosemary. She tucked them under each arm and felt relief as she took the weight off her leg and hobbled forward, albeit slowly. 

“Which way do we go?” asked Charlie, looking up and down the dark hallway. “They look identical.”

Rosemary studied the tunnel, up and down and around every inch of it; Charlie was right, it seemed to stretch on forever on both sides in the thick darkness. 

“There’s a slope there, do you see it?” Rosemary pointed downwards. “The floor tilts, downwards to the right and upwards to the left.” 

Charlie nodded. “I see it. So, if we want to get out…” 

“We go left. Up and out.” 

Rosemary and Charlie exchanged glances, putting aside the heated words exchanged momentarily as they looked grimly out into the black. 

“Up and out.” 

* * * * * *

  
“Does your head hurt?” Rosemary asked Charlie suddenly. 

They had been trudging down the passageway for about a quarter of an hour. The silence was only broken by the sound of the scraping of Rosemary’s crutches against the ground and the occasional eerie moan in the faint distance that made Rosemary shiver. 

“No,” Charlie said gruffly, dropping the hand that was rubbing the back of his head. 

Rosemary stopped, and fished another tiny bottle of green potion from her belt, and offered it to Charlie. “Here,” she said, nudging him with the tiny glass vial. Charlie flinched, and Rosemary quickly drew her hand back. “It’ll help.”

“Thanks,” Charlie muttered, quickly taking the bottle. He uncorked the bottle and swallowed its contents in one long gulp before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.  
  
“You should take one,” Charlie said, stopping Rosemary before she could resume walking again.

“What?” 

“A healing potion,” Charlie elaborated. “You should take one. You look pale.”

“It’ll heal my foot in the wrong place, and the Healer will have to rebreak it if—when we get out of here.” 

Rosemary thought for a moment before grimacing. “I supposed there is one thing I could take, but Merlin I hate using it. The side effects when you first take it are…strong, to say the least.” 

“Will it help though?” Charlie said intently. 

“Yes,” Rosemary sighed, already fingering around in her pouch again. She felt the tip of a rubber dropper and grasped it firmly. “Aha.” 

She unscrewed the minuscule bottle and squeezed two drops of the pale yellow liquid onto her tongue. Rosemary made a face at the initial bitterness, but it was soon followed by a deep sigh of relief as the effects washed over her with dizzying intensity. Her feet stumbled slightly under her as Rosemary tried to keep her bearings; the pain in her leg was almost completely gone but her brain had gone distinctly fuzzy. 

“What was that?” Charlie gaped as he watched the change in Rosemary’s demeanor.

“Essence of wild lettuce with an infusion of pufferfish venom,” Rosemary sighed. All of her reasons for being angry at Charlie had melted away, and been replaced by not altogether unpleasant sensation of bemusement. “It relieves pain, but it makes you loopy and can become very, very addictive if you’re not careful. I got it in Knockturn Alley.” 

Rosemary giggled at the scandalized look on Charlie’s face at the mention of Diagon Alley’s seedy cousin. 

“What?” Charlie asked with a flash of both surprise and annoyance. 

“When I said Knockturn Alley,” Rosemary said, breaking into a peal of giggles. “You looked just like your mum!” Rosemary doubled over into laughter; she wasn’t sure why this was so amusing to her, but she couldn’t focus her mind long enough to work it out.

“I can see what you mean by ‘loopy’,” Charlie said with pursed lips, an expression that made Rosemary laugh even harder; tears of mirth squeezed from her eyes as she handed the bottle to Charlie. 

“Here,” she said between giggles. “Don’t let me take any more for at least an hour.” 

“Will you be okay?” Charlie asked apprehensively. “You’ve gone sort of…funny.”

“Yes, yes,” she assured. “It’ll fade in a bit, but it’ll still help with the pain.” 

* * * * * *

“Was it worth it?” 

Rosemary didn’t know what possessed her to speak after another few minutes of silent walking, but the question escaped her lips before she had a chance to stop it. She thought the mental effects of the potion had worn off for the most part, but her uninhibitedness seemed to signal otherwise.

Charlie raised a curious eyebrow. “Was what worth it?” 

“Romania,” Rosemary enunciated the word carefully as if she was worried she was going to mispronounce it. “Do you like it?” 

“Ah,” Charlie faltered slightly before answering. “Yes, I like Romania.” There was a beat of silence.

“What do you like about it?” 

For a moment, Charlie thought he wouldn't respond. After a few seconds of measured silence, Charlie cast his eyes downwards as he answered/

“The dragons,” Charlie offered but didn’t add anything else to his answer.

“Of course,” said Rosemary. “You can’t forget the dragons.” 

Charlie cocked his head as if he wasn’t sure if she was admonishing him or not. Rosemary wasn’t too sure either

It wasn’t until they had walked much further, that Rosemary realized he had never answered her first question, but by then she had lost her nerve to repeat it. 

_Was it worth it?_

* * * * * *

Rosemary was staring to shiver; it seemed like the further they walked, the colder the air became. The chill seemed to sharpen Rosemary’s mind as she realized what was wrong. 

“Wait,” Rosemary said, stopping dead in her tracks. Charlie turned to look at her with confusion on his face. 

“What is it?” he said questioningly.

“It should be getting warmer, not colder. The heat would rise the further up we go.” 

“What does that mean?” 

Rosemary looked around at the floor beneath her and took a few tentative steps forward and backward as she paid better attention to the slant of the ground. “Oh no,” Rosemary whispered. “Oh no, oh no.” 

Rosemary tossed her crutches haphazardly against the wall as she struggled to crouch down on the floor and onto her knees. 

“What are you doing?” Charlie watched her nervously, raking a hand through his hair with a furrowed brow. 

Rosemary ignored him, placing her wand carefully on the ground and watching intently as it began to roll very slightly. 

But it didn’t roll—like Rosemary expected—downwards from the direction in which Rosemary and Charlie had just walked. Instead, it rolled forwards into the ominously awaiting space in which they were heading. 

“Damn it!” Rosemary cursed loudly. She snatched her wand up off the ground. “I’m a complete _idiot_!” 

“What is it?” Charlie asked anxiously.

“We’re going the wrong way!” Rosemary cried out, banging her fist against the ground in frustration. 

“The wrong way?” Charlie said, bewildered. “How?” 

“It’s an optical illusion!” Rosemary moaned. “I should have known! Magic, forced perspective, I’m not sure, but we’ve been going deeper into the tomb!” 

Rosemary banged her palm against the ground again and was shocked when there was a slight tremor beneath her. But it didn’t stop, she could feel the shaking continuing underneath her hands. 

“What is that?” Charlie asked Rosemary sharply. Rosemary unthinkingly raised a hand, and Charlie pulled her to her feet. 

“I don’t know,” Rosemary whispered. A sinking sense of dread had settled in the pit of her stomach.

One by one, the torches that lined the tunnel began to burst into bright blue flame and in the far distance, in the direction from where Rosemary and Charlie had fallen, a deep, rumbling roar filled the dark passageway.

Charlie’s mouth dropped open. Rosemary felt her breath catch in her throat in horror. 

“That’s…” Charlie was aghast as the sound continued to reverberate around them. “Rosemary, I would know that sound anywhere. That’s a dragon.” The shaking became more and more pronounced. It wasn’t one continuous quake; it was a series of heavy, earth-shattering footsteps left by an immense creature coming their way.

“Run!” Charlie yelled, yanking on Rosemary's arm. “Rosemary, run!” 

The crutches were left abandoned as Rosemary and Charlie burst into a run forward into the tunnel. Rosemary’s bandaged ankle slowed her down considerably, catching and tripping on every raised bump and crag on the ground as Rosemary stumbled forward as best as she could. 

Charlie could have easily outstripped her in her condition, but instead, he pulled her along with him, wrapping an arm around her waist and half-dragged, half-carried Rosemary forward as they struggled through the tunnel together. 

“We have to lose it!” Rosemary yelled as they ran. “We can’t fight it!” 

“I know!” Charlie’s voice was hoarse and desperate as he charged forward; his grip around Rosemary didn’t loosen. 

The tunnel was illuminated in an eerie blue light and only a few yards ahead, Rosemary saw something glowing brighter. 

“There!” Rosemary pointed ahead. “There’s something there!” 

The passage was beginning to widen slightly, and as Rosemary and Charlie approached the source of the light, Rosemary could see that it led into a cavern even larger than the one that had housed the mummies. 

“What if there’s something in there?” Charlie shouted over the ever-increasing rumbling. 

“There’s already something in here!”

They reached the entrance of the chamber, tumbling through the large arch at the same time. Rosemary pointed her wand at the tunnel opening as she collapsed on the ground, knitting its sides together to close the entry which they had flung themselves through. 

Rosemary and Charlie wheezed together, flat on their backs as they tried to catch their breath.

“That is a—” Rosemary panted through heavy breaths. “That is a _dragon_.” 

“They _were_ dragon scales,” Charlie remembered, his voice taking on a tone of incredulous wonder. “How old is it? What does it _eat_?” 

“How is it even alive?” Rosemary said with shock as she staggered to her feet and looked around her. The room was enormous, at least a hundred yards tall, and at just as wide. In the middle of the room stood a giant bronze brazier, alight with the same blue flame that had lined the tunnel walls. 

Charlie had followed Rosemary to his feet; his wand was outstretched as he looked aghast an appraising glance over their surroundings. 

“How deep are we?” Charlie asked Rosemary with wide eyes. 

Another tremor rocked through the cavern, and Rosemary watched with dread as a panel of brown rock slid open, revealing another even larger archway that the one they had just run through. Rosemary and Charlie retreated away from the opening as the steps grew louder and roars grew even fiercer. 

* * *

_Gryffindor versus Slytherin Quidditch Final. May 1991._

“GO CHARLIE, GO!” 

Rosemary’s voice had gone hoarse over half an hour ago, but that didn’t stop her from continuing to shriek encouragement as she bounced up and down excitedly in the Quidditch stands. Charlie and the Slytherin Seeker Higgs were streaking across the pitch, knocking knees as they flew parallel to each other, just barely visible scarlet and emerald blurs in the bright May sunlight. 

“LET’S GO CHARLIE!” 

“GO, GO, GO!” 

Tonks and Penny were cheering at the top of their lungs as well; the three Hufflepuff girls had eaten their breakfast at the Quidditch pitch to make sure they got prime seating for the Final. It was a good thing too because now they were pressed tightly against the edge of the stands as the student spectators surged forward to get a good look at the end of the last Quidditch game of the year. 

“Weasley and Higgs are neck and neck for the Snitch! 120 to 90 for Slytherin!” 

Murphy McNully’s shout was audible even over the excited din of the student body. “This game decides the winners of the Quidditch Cup, not to mention Charlie Weasley’s last chance to finally nab the win for Gryffindor!” 

“Come on, come on!” Rosemary yelled, watching as the two Seekers rocketed around the pitch. Charlie and Higgs zooming wildly, narrowly missing Chasers and Bludgers as they chased after the glint of gold a few feet ahead of their outstretched hands. 

“Why doesn’t one of them just grab it?” Penny asked with frustration. 

“They keep blocking each other!” Tonks cried, pointing upwards. “Neither of them has an in!”

Rosemary had her fingers crossed tightly as she watched Charlie’s flying figure. It surprised her, how nervous seeing him in the throes of a match made her feel. Any foul or run-in with the other team that Charlie had made her stomach twist into a tight knot, a knot that only loosened when she saw that he was alright. 

This feeling was not new; Rosemary had been dancing around the fluttering in her stomach whenever she was around Charlie for over a year now. She had fought her damndest to keep it under wraps, all the blushing and the stammering that happened much too often around him, but it wasn’t the easiest of tasks. It was so easy for Rosemary to forget herself, whenever Charlie would lock eyes and smile at her from across the crowded Great Hall, or when they would try to finish Charms homework together in the library because Rosemary didn’t want to go back to her common room after dinner without being able to spend time with him, or especially on those extremely early mornings when Rosemary would leave her common room at the crack of dawn to catch the tail of end of Charlie’s Quidditch practices just so they could walk to breakfast together. 

It was things like that made hiding the fact that Rosemary was in love with Charlie Weasley very, very difficult. 

McNully bellow filled the stadium, making Rosemary jump out of her skin as it broke her concentration. 

“WHAT IN MERLIN’S NAME IS FLINT DOING?” 

The game was over in quick succession after this. 

Marcus Flint had abandoned his fight for the Quaffle and sped off towards Charlie and Higgs. He barrelled through his own teammates as he dove upwards towards the Seekers, clearly aiming to crash directly into Charlie to throw him off course of the Snitch. Charlie—eagle-eyed as always—swerved just slightly to avoid the oncoming collision, but the distraction was enough that Higgs was able to leap forward and grab the Snitch just as Madam Hooch blasted her whistle shrilly. 

“Higgs catches the Snitch!” yelled McNully over the confused chattering of the crowd. “But Madam Hooch has not called the game! Will this clearly illegal interference from Slytherin captain Marcus Flint be allowed?”

Madam Hooch had flown to where Charlie, Higgs, and Flint touched down; all three players were yelling at each other indistinctly. Flint was waving his hands wildly around his head as he gestured to Higgs, who was scowling even though the Snitch was fluttering wildly in his hands. Charlie’s arms were crossed tightly, his face a strange shade of puce as he argued furiously with Flint. 

The stadium was silent as they waited with bated breath to hear Madam Hooch’s final judgment. After a few seconds of listening to Flint’s wild gesticulations and Charlie’s fierce argument, Madam Hooch clapped Charlie on the back sympathetically, and Rosemary’s stomach sank as the referee raised the silver whistle to her lips.

Madam Hooch’s shrill whistle pierced the air twice.

“SLYTHERIN WINS! 270-90!”

Murphy McNully’s shout of despair was overwhelmed by the sound of an entire stadium exploding into a mixture of ear-deafening boos and cheers. 

“No!” cried Rosemary. “He cheated! Flint fouled Charlie!” 

“Doesn’t matter,” Tonks said morosely. “Higgs caught the Snitch before Madam Hooch blew the whistle. Perfectly legal.” 

Rosemary groaned, sinking her face into her hands; Charlie was going to be devastated, winning the Quidditch cup had been the only thing on his mind for weeks. She lifted her head; people were already beginning to crowd onto the pitch to converge around the two teams. 

“Come on,” Rosemary said, pulling on Penny and Tonks’s hands. “We should find them before they get drowned in Gryffindors for the rest of the night.” 

Rosemary, Tonks, and Penny wove their way through the throng of students and professors, ignoring the jubilant cheers of the Slytherins as Flint grandstanded to his admirers in the middle of the field. The Slytherins had all poured onto the Quidditch field, eager to celebrate their third consecutive Quidditch Cup win, while the rest Gryffindors and Rosemary’s fellow Hufflepuffs moved to console the losing team. The Ravenclaws, who had been resoundingly beaten by Gryffindor for a spot in the Finals only a few weeks ago mingled aimlessly around the field, not wanting to draw any ire from the Gryffindors by openly celebrating a Slytherin win. 

“Well that’s that,” Tonks grumbled as the girls began to make their way down the stands. “What a great way to end seven years in this place, with another stinkin’ Slytherin win.” 

“The school year ends in June, Tonks,” Penny reminded her. 

“Urgh, don’t remind me. D’ya think I want to be looking at the faces of those smug-faced snakes for another _month_?” 

“I’m sure they won't be so awful,” Penny said as fairly as always. “I think some Slytherins get unfair reputations sometimes, honestly. This week wasn’t so bad really if you compare it to how it’s been in other years.” 

Tonks grinned slyly at Penny. “That’s only because Higgs has got it _bad_ for you. Barnaby told me he told Flint he would lose on purpose if he did anything to the Gryffindor team because he knew _you_ wouldn’t like it.”

“Oh,” Penny said, eyes widening as she flushed a very flattering shade of pink. Rosemary had to laugh at her friend's bashfulness; Penny had the same bewildered reaction every time she found out someone liked her as if she couldn’t possibly believe that someone actually had a crush on the prettiest and most popular girl in their year. 

Tonks chortled. “‘Oh—’ Did you hear that Rosemary? ‘Oh’ is what she has to say to that!” Tonks prodded Rosemary in the side when she realized that Rosemary had become distracted. “Rosemary?”

Rosemary had her neck craned over the crowded pitch, on her tiptoes as she looked for a head of shocking red in the crowd. 

“There! There they are!” 

Penny, the tallest of the group, pointed to the furthest point on the left side of the Quidditch pitch. The Gryffindor team was clumped next to one of the goalposts, being consoled by their fellow Housemates and a slightly depressed looking Professor McGonagall. 

As Rosemary approached, she could help but notice how incredibly dejected the Gryffindor team looked. Second-year Angelina Johnson was in near tears while being patted awkwardly on the back by Fred and George Weasley. Callum Macmillian and Veronica Hopkins—the two seventh year Chasers—were talking in hushed, grim tones to Professor McGonagall. Oliver Wood was paying attention to no one, instead electing to bang his head repeatedly against the middle goal post. 

“Wood, you are going to hurt yourself!” McGonagall said snappishly, although she looked like she thoroughly wished to be doing the same. “You all played distinctively well, and you should be proud of your performance.” 

“We nearly had them, Professor,” Wood moaned, grasping the sleeve of Professor McGonagall’s robes and wringing it with despair. “So close!” 

“Get a hold of yourself, Mr. Wood,” Professor McGonagall advised with pursed lips, although she patted Wood’s back sympathetically after carefully detangling herself from his grasp. 

Rosemary approached Fred, George, and Angelina, leaving Tonks and Penny to commiserate with Callum and Veronica. The three-second years looked glumly at Rosemary as she walked up to them. 

“Really well done, you three,” Rosemary said soothingly. “McGonagall is right, you all played wonderfully.”

“Thanks, Rosemary,” Fred said glumly, before shrugging very slightly. “We’ll have a few more chances. Charlie though….” Fred winced. “I’m guessing he won't be too happy.” 

“Don’t see how we’ll even have a prayer of winning next year,” George said hollowly. “We lost even with Charlie, and everyone says he’s the best Seeker Hogwarts has had in ages.” 

“Have you seen Charlie?” Rosemary asked Fred and George hesitantly. 

“Right here.” 

A quiet voice spoke right next to Rosemary’s shoulder. She whirled around, coming face to face with Charlie. His face was completely flat, devoid of almost all expression, which Rosemary knew meant that he was trying to hold back his severe disappointment in front of the crowd. 

“Charlie!” Rosemary squeaked with surprise. She reached out a hand to touch his arm, before twitching it back nervously. “You flew brilliantly!

“Thanks,” Charlie said flatly, looking over Rosemary’s head to his teammates and Rosemary felt a twinge of hurt at his dismissal.

“Well done, everyone,” Charlie announced to the team; his voice cracked slightly with emotion. “Really well played season, everyone played their best—” 

His words were interrupted by a roar from the middle of the pitch; Professor Dumbledore had just handed the gleaming silver Quidditch Cup to a triumphant looking Flint. Charlie grimaced as he took in the sight before turning back to the Gryffindors. 

“Why don’t we hit the showers?” Charlie said tonelessly. His team nodded dispiritedly and started to make their way to the locker rooms with their feet trudging gloomily. Charlie went to follow them, but Rosemary held onto the sleeve of his Quidditch robe. 

“Charlie, wait—” 

Rosemary tried to hold Charlie back, but Charlie shook off her hand lightly. 

“I’ll see you at dinner, Rosemary,” he said, not looking at Rosemary as he followed Fred and George, and left Rosemary alone as she watched as his figure retreat after his siblings. 

* * * * *

Charlie wasn’t at dinner. 

Rosemary had watched the entrance of the Great Hall anxiously as the Gryffindor team entered to scattered claps and muted cheers, but Charlie wasn’t among them. When she asked Percy Weasley if he had gone straight to their common room, Percy told her that he hadn’t seen Charlie at all since he had left the pitch. After that, Fred and George had told her they had left him in the showers after he had urged them to dinner, so neither of them knew where he had gone afterward. 

Rosemary ate much slower than she usually did, toying with her treacle tart and snapping her head up every time she saw movement at the Gryffindor table until Tonks and Penny—who had insisted on waiting with her—had finally cajoled her into leaving well after everyone else had polished off their plates.  
  
She didn’t follow her friends to her common room, however. Rosemary had made up a half baked lie about unfinished Transfiguration homework and insisted that she needed to go to the library. Tonks and Penny had exchanged dubious looks, but had allowed Rosemary to go off on her own without much protest. 

Now on her own, Rosemary was combing through the castle as she tried to find Charlie. At first, she had tried to go back out onto the grounds, but a fierce-looking Filch had shooed her away from the Entrance Hall after shrieking that he had had enough of her troublemaking to last a lifetime.

The library, the Great Hall again, and all the empty classrooms she could find were empty. Every Gryffindor she passed in the corridors hadn’t seen Charlie anywhere either. Rosemary had even followed two third-years to Gryffindor tower, but lost sight of them for a moment and was left alone in a landing full of portraits, including one of a very fat woman in a pink dress who kept looking at her suspiciously. 

Curfew was imminent. Rosemary sighed heavily, resigning herself to the fact that Charlie would be nowhere to be seen for the rest of the night. 

“Rosemary?” 

Rosemary jumped as the quiet voice spoke up from behind her.

“Charlie?” 

Rosemary turned; Charlie was standing at the beginning of the corridor holding his broomstick and looking thoroughly surprised to see her.

“What are you doing here?” 

“I’m sorry,” Rosemary stammered. “I thought maybe you weren’t in your common room yet. Percy, Fred, and George said they hadn’t seen you in there...where have you been?” 

“Hagrid’s,” Charlie replied abruptly. “I ate dinner with him.” 

A small smile quirked at Rosemary’s lips. “You ate dinner…at Hagrid’s? Are we talking about the same Hagrid?” 

Charlie’s expression didn’t change, he just avoided Rosemary’s eyes and began to walk past her. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow Rosemary,” he mumbled, but Rosemary took hold of his arm before he could walk any further. 

“Charlie, this doesn’t seem like you,” Rosemary insisted as she held onto his sleeve despite Charlie’s slight tugging to try and get out of her grip. “Are you all right?”

Charlie laughed hollowly. 

“No, I’m brilliant, just brilliant,” he said in a horribly bright sort of voice, one so obviously put on that Rosemary didn’t believe him for a second.

“Charlie, I know you wanted to win but you played the best you could, you were amazing—”

“I'm better than Higgs!” Charlie exploded He raked a stiff hand through his hair. “I should’ve beaten him! Just this one thing, I could’ve actually done right. It’s the only thing that I have over Bi—” 

He stopped short, not finishing his sentence before continuing in a much softer voice, but cracking with emotion. “It’s the only thing I have that I’m any good at, and I completely ruined it. For everyone.” 

Charlie looked up at Rosemary, the disappointment so clearly written on his face that it made Rosemary’s heart break just a little. 

Rosemary didn’t know what overtook her as she watched the usually so steady and even-tempered Charlie on the verge of tears, but Rosemary couldn’t help herself as she threw her hands around Charlie’s neck and kissed him. 

Charlie was completely still for one horrible moment where Rosemary thought she had ruined everything forever, but just as suddenly as Rosemary had kissed him, Charlie dropped his broom with a loud clatter and pressed his hands firmly against her cheeks and kissed her back. 

Their lips moving softly together, with no urgency or desperation despite Rosemary’s months of pining. It was as if they both knew the inevitably of this kiss, and were now only basking in the glowing warmth that surrounded them. 

Charlie wrapped an arm around Rosemary’s waist and pulled her close, nearly pulling her off of her feet as she clung to his neck. 

Charlie broke away first, leaving his hands on Rosemary’s burning cheeks and gawping at Rosemary with wide eyes. Rosemary grinned up at him; her whole body was trembling but whether it was from her nerves or the pure outpour of emotion, Rosemary wasn’t sure. 

“Rosemary, I—” 

Whatever Charlie was about to say was interrupted by a very familiar clearing of the throat.

“Ahem.” 

Rosemary and Charlie jumped, still half tangled around each other as they looked for the source of the noise. Where Charlie had been standing only a few moments ago, Professor McGonagall was staring at them severely with her arms crossed in front of her chest and her mouth in a flat, disapproving line. 

“Professor!” Rosemary stammered loudly. She and Charlie exchange nervous glances as they broke apart. 

“Really now, you two I expect better from seventh years!” Professor McGonagall said sharply. “It is well past curfew, and Miss Woodward should not even be in this part of the castle.” 

“Sorry Professor,” Rosemary and Charlie sang in unison. Rosemary could feel the heat of her embarrassment burn up her back and in her cheeks as Professor McGonagall looked between Charlie and Rosemary. 

McGonagall’s stern expression softened very slightly as she looked down at Charlie and Rosemary’s still linked hands. “Miss Woodward,” she said with only the barest hints of a smile. “I will be escorting you back to your common room. You may follow me…in a moment.” Without another word, she turned around and walked stiffly out of the corridor. 

Charlie and Rosemary exchanged awestruck looks; McGonogall’s leniency was so rare that overtook even the momentousness of what had just occurred between them. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” Charlie asked with the fiercest blush Rosemary had ever seen on him. Rosemary didn’t reply and instead lifted herself onto her tiptoes to kiss him very lightly before settling back onto the soles of her feet. 

They stayed still for just a moment as they held hands tightly under the soft glow of the candlelit corridor. Charlie was looking at her with a wondering grin, an expression so sweet and earnest that it made Rosemary’s heart melt to somewhere around her toes. 

Charlie pressed a small kiss to Rosemary’s forehead. Rosemary squeezed his hands tightly one last time before letting go. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Rosemary said with a soft smile, before turning to follow Professor McGonagall out of the corridor.

* * *

“Take my hand!” Rosemary yelled at Charlie, who looked at her and back to the opening passageway with shock. 

“What?”

“Take my hand!” Rosemary insisted. Charlie hesitated for only the briefest of seconds, before clasping it firmly. 

Rosemary pointed her wand at Charlie, who yelped as the sensation of the Disillusionment Charm washed over him. The outline of his body began to melt into the background, leaving nothing but a shimmering shadow that blended straight into the ground. If Rosemary’s hand wasn’t wrapped tightly around Charlie’s, she would have thought he wasn’t there. It only took another second to place her own Disillusionment Charm, and the cold that oozed down Rosemary’s back made her shiver. 

The rumbling got closer and closer, and Rosemary pulled Charlie backward so that they were flat against the opposite wall of the entrance. A loud shrieking roar rang through the cavern, and Rosemary felt Charlie push himself in front of Rosemary, placing himself between her and whatever was coming through the opening.

It was enormous, barely squeezing through the opening in the cavern. It was the color of dried sand, with sharp yellow teeth and expansive but tattered wings.

It was a dragon. 

It’s giant head whipped around, and its nostrils flared widely as it began to step into the expanse of the chamber.

“Can it smell us?” Rosemary breathed, leaning into Charlie’s ear to make as little noise as possible.

“Yes,” Charlie whispered, so low that Rosemary could barely hear. “It’s confused, that’s why it’s not attacking.”  
  
“When will it figure it out?” 

“Soon.” 

The dragon darted its head around, growling as if frustrated that he couldn’t locate its prey. With one loud gurgled shriek, it beat it’s giant wings and lifted itself into the air.  
  
Rosemary studied the dragon’s body as it flew in circles like a vulture ready to descend on carrion. It was moved oddly, like a broken toy or a moth with a singed wing. Despite the terrifying sight, Rosemary couldn’t help but watch the dragon through the eyes of a Curse-Breaker. All over the dragon's body, there were vague etchings that Rosemary had to squint to see clearly. In the middle of its chest, one of the etchings glowed blue just like the flames in the brazier.

As the dragon settled itself into a crevasse at the top of the stone dome, Rosemary watched for the glint of the dragon's eyes, but there was nothing but black in the sockets as it moved its muzzle slightly into the light of the blue flame. 

It didn’t have eyes. Realization dawned on Rosemary, and she whispered into Charlie’s ear. “It’s not alive. Charlie, it’s not alive.” 

“What does that mean?” Charlie asked under his breath, still not moving from his defensive position in front of her. “How can it not be alive?” 

“It’s like a…” Rosemary struggled to find the right words to explain. “It’s almost like a mummy. Reanimated.” 

Rosemary watched the dragon from the corner of her eye as she sped through the explanation. “The dragon is the curse. I can see the writing on its hide. All the enchantments in the tomb were placed on the dragon’s skin so that as long as the dragon is alive, the curses will stay alive too. But the dragon’s already dead, so the curses can never die.” 

“Then how in the hell are we going to get out of here?” 

Rosemary swallowed hard as the dragon cast its dark empty gaze over her. 

“I need to be able to touch it.”

“Rosemary, I can barely do that with about half a dozen dragonologists next to me. That’s damn near impossible for you to do at the moment.” 

“I can’t break the curse without touching it,” Rosemary hissed. “There’s no spell alone that will do that.” The dragon’s head darted towards where Charlie and Rosemary stood, and its nostrils flared widely again. 

“We don’t have the time, Charlie.” Rosemary insisted. “We have to do something. The dragon beat its battered wings, lifting itself into the air. 

“I have an idea,” Charlie whispered. “Take off the Disillusionment.” 

“Are you mad?” snapped Rosemary. “It’ll kill you.” 

“It won’t,” Charlie insisted. “I can try putting it to sleep. It’s hard, but I’ve gotten good at it.” 

“Will it even work?” Rosemary asked uneasily. “It’s dead.” 

“There’s no time to try anything else!” Charlie retorted. “If it doesn’t work, you slip out while it’s distracted. Try to make it back to the surface.” 

“I’m not leaving you behind,” Rosemary said, her voice rising slightly. The dragon dove downwards at the sound of her voice, landing with an earth-shaking tremor near the open tunnel. “Either we both die, or we both get out. There is no other option here.” 

Charlie was silent for a moment before Rosemary heard him exhale loudly through his nose. The dragon began to stalk slowly towards them; it’s empty eye sockets seemed to pinpoint exactly where Rosemary and Charlie stood.

“Fine,” Charlie said shakily. “Once I place the spell, I have to keep using it or else it’ll wake up. You'll need to conjure the chains and shackle it by the legs, wings, and neck. Completely immobile, so you can do your work. Got it?” 

Rosemary nodded, even though she knew Charlie couldn’t see it. “Got it.” 

“Take the Disillusion off of me.” 

Rosemary prodded Charlie with the tip of her wand and murmured the counterspell. Immediately, Charlie began to rematerialize; his wand was already outstretched as the dragon roared angrily 

“Let’s dance,” Rosemary heard Charlie mutter. The dragon charged with his maw agape, straight at Charlie who walked forward unflinchingly as began to murmur under breath. His voice was like honey, a soothing lullaby as he took measured steps forwards. 

For a horrible moment, Rosemary thought the spell would have no effect and that the dragon would tear Charlie limb from limb as it ran forwards without stopping. It was only a few yards away when Rosemary began to run forward to yank Charlie back, but the dragon’s roar began to die and its legs began to stumble as it slowed down.

Charlie didn’t stop his spell, he only walked closer and closer until he was a few feet from the dragon’s mouth. The dragon began to sink, settling onto its back legs with an expression that almost looked like confusion. It gave a great huff as it dropped its head onto the ground; the dust that rose to hit Rosemary like a wave, and she covered her eyes to protect them from the fine grain. 

As the dust settled, Rosemary watched with awe as the dragon lay flat on its stomach with Charlie standing right in front of it, eyes intense as he kept his wand unwavering. Charlie jerked his head slightly, signaling for Rosemary to begin her task. 

Rosemary limped forward with her wand aloft, inching towards the dragon nervously. It seemed to be completely entranced on Charlie, it’s eyeless sockets were fixed onto his face.

She pointed her wand at the dragon, and the thickest chains she could conjure floated over its head, twisting and turning over the dragon’s torso. Rosemary looked at Charlie, who nodded tightly with his approval. 

Rosemary walked around the cursed dragon, weaving her wand around every inch of its body as more and more chains wrapped themselves around its feet, wings, neck, and several times over and under its mouth for good measure. She made sure to leave the torso uncovered; she would need access to it to read the hieroglyphics. 

After a few tense minutes, Rosemary stopped and let her wand sever the length of the chain. It seemed like the dragon was wrapped securely, but Rosemary knew she would need to anchor them more securely to the ground.

Rosemary inched forward, pointing her wand straight into the earth where she drove massive iron pegs deep into the rocky soil. She grabbed hold of the broken end of the chain and gave it a firm yank to make sure that it stayed put. 

The dragon snorted loudly, and Charlie—who had not moved from his place at the dragon’s head—stopped his chant and snapped his head to look at Rosemary. The momentary distraction was enough, and the dragon twisted suddenly, catching Rosemary by surprise as the chain slid out of her hands. The dragon felt the give and thrashed even more wildly, whipping the chain around with it and lashing Rosemary directly on the chest and face. 

“ROSEMARY!” 

Rosemary could barely hear Charlie’s yell as she flew backward from the strength of the blow. She landed hard on her back, her breathing ragged as she felt the blood pour from her nose and the crushing pain in her chest. 

“ROSEMARY!” 

Rosemary struggled to take a full breath as she sat up; her vision blurred dangerously. The dragon was flailing around frantically, trying to extend its wings and snarling as best as it could with its maw chained shut. The chains loosed imperceivable as the dragon continued to fight against its bonds. 

Charlie began running towards her, but Rosemary shook her head empathetically “I’m fine,” Rosemary yelled through aching breaths. “Keep it asleep!” 

Charlie stopped, anxiously looking between the thrashing dragon and Rosemary. Rosemary yelled again. 

“I can do it!” 

Charlie gave her an agonizing look before turning his attention back onto the dragon, who calmed the moment Charlie began to speak again. Rosemary struggled to her feet; the blood was still flowing liberally from her nose as her vision doubled. 

She gritted her teeth and approached the dragon again. Rosemary worked carefully, securing every loose end of chain she could find to the ground. She could feel Charlie's eye’s on her, his voice becoming hoarse as she gingerly melted chains with the white heat from her wand. 

Finally, Rosemary sighed as she looped around the dragon, checking to make sure that no limb was left unsecured.

“It’s done,” Rosemary said wearily. She could feel her legs shaking as Charlie stopped his incantation and barely felt him as grabbed her arm to stop her from falling. 

“Rosemary?” 

Charlie’s voice swam faintly somewhere above Rosemary. “I can fix your nose,” she heard him say. “ _Episkey_.” 

Rosemary felt her nose burn cold then hot, and the pain in her face diminished. “M'kay,” Rosemary mumbled as she righted herself. Charlie kept his arm around her waist as she walked waveringly to the dragon’s prone body, dropping to her knees at its side. 

“Rosemary, take a healing potion,” Charlie insisted next to her. Rosemary didn’t argue this time, fumbling for the clasp of her pouch as she extracted two more vials, tipping them into her mouth at the same time like the shots of firewhiskey she took with Tonks and Merula. 

The effect was immediate as the same hot and cold sensation flooded through her body. Her chest, face, and ankle burned with the effects of the potion but the pain diminished greatly. 

“Are you alright?” Charlie asked with agitation as Rosemary’s eyes began to focus.

“I’ll be okay,” Rosemary told him. She said it more soothingly than she intended, and her words came out more of a croon than an assurance.

The dragon was shaking furiously under the chains, twitching like mad and with a rumbling growl in its throat, but it stayed chained flat against the ground. 

“How in Merlin’s name did you do that?” Rosemary demanded, looking at Charlie with wide eyes. 

“Practice,” Charlie said with a shrug. “We would need a lot more Stunners to knock it out cold, so this was the best I can do.” 

A small smile played on Rosemary’s lips as she took in Charlie’s complete unenthusiasm to his massive feat of magic. “I always knew you’d be brilliant at this,” she said musingly. Charlie’s brows furrowed, and he pinked slightly around the ears

Rosemary looked at the dragon’s exposed skin. There were hieroglyphs etched all over its hide and scale, almost completely disintegrated with the centuries. 

“Oh you poor thing,” Rosemary murmured as she translated the drawings. “Oh, it must have suffered so much.” 

“What did they do to him?” Charlie asked, kneeling next to her and squinting at writing. 

“It's a him?” Rosemary questioned curiously. Charlie nodded. 

“This part here,” Rosemary said, pointing at a long line of script down the dragon's side. “It tells how they cursed it; a warning to anyone who gets too close.” 

“They captured the dragon and bound it almost exactly like this. They took out its eyes and its tongue to make a potion, and they fed it to the dragon. All while it was still alive. Then they carved in every single curse that they wanted the tomb to contain into its skin, and then pulled out his heart. Which finally killed it.” 

Charlie looked horror-struck; he reached out a hand as if to stroke the fossil-like skin of the creature but stopped just a few inches short. 

Rosemary kept reading. “After it as dead, then they carved in the _ankh_ , and sealed the curse.” She gestured at the blazing key-like shape in the dragon's chest.

“The ankh?” 

“It’s the symbol of eternal life. Dark wizards, they took it—butchered it, _perverted_ it—to make _this_. A cursed existence, for all of eternity. All to protect their riches for the afterlife.” Rosemary felt the pity well up as tears in her eyes as she thought the pain the dragon must have gone through for such a disgusting purpose. “No creature deserves that.” 

“How do we break the curse?” Charlie asked quietly. He closed the gap between his hand and the dragon and ran a comforting hand against the dragon's side.

“It’s easier than you would think,” Rosemary said. “Once you remove the _ankh_ , the curse breaks. Whatever magic is keeping him…alive for lack of a better word, should dissipate.” 

Rosemary pulled out a small knife from her belt and knelt next to the dragon. She ran a light finger over the engraving, and the dragon shuddered slightly. 

“Don’t worry,” Rosemary murmured. “You’ll be able to rest now. I know this won’t hurt, but I’m sorry anyway.”  
  
Rosemary jabbed the knife into the dragon’s skin, slicing through the hide with some difficulty despite the sharpness of her knife. She cut away at the space where the hieroglyph was carved, revealing only empty space and dusty bones where the dragon flesh should have been. 

“You should have died a long time ago,” Rosemary said as she gave one final pull of the knife, and the strip of dragon hide tore away. “I’m so very sorry.”

Immediately, the dragon went still and began to crumble under Rosemary’s hands. Soon enough, there was nothing left of the brown dragon except dust and the length of dragon leather in Rosemary’s hand. 

“Merlin,” Charlie breathed. “You did it.” 

Rosemary eased to her feet as best as she could; every inch of her body was aching like mad. The cavern began to rumble around Charlie and Rosemary started rumbling, and pieces of the wall crumbled and fell into pieces revealing six more openings that lead into the rest of the tomb. Rosemary breathed a sigh of relief before turning to Charlie.  
  
“We did it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys, I am so sorry for the delays on this chapter. I have no idea why it took me so long; I worked on it every day this week and I was still missing so much. I have part of Chapter 9 done already, so I hope that it won't take as long as this chapter. So so sorry about the wait. Please leave a comment or a kudos if you like the story! -Lily
> 
> Notes:  
> -I think what I love about Charlie and Rosemary's dynamic is that they're both so willing to put aside their personal issues to make sure they other is safe. You see it a lot in the last two chapters, how easy it is for them to protect each other.  
> -I didn't mean to imply that Charlie doesn't like Romania in that little section. He absolutely loves his job, it was just that in that moment he was thinking of what he gave up in exchange.  
> -Professor McGonagall completely gives up with the seventh years after their N.E.W.T.s and just doesn't give out detentions, which is why she went so easy on Charlie and Rosemary. I also think that she's seen a bunch of students confessing their love to each other the close they get to graduation, and she'd rather not interfere with that.  
> -Already planning the Rosemary drunk on firewhiskey scene in my head, I can picture it so clearly haha.  
> -So totally glad to be done with these tomb chapters.
> 
> -Next Chapter: Ravenclaws say wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure, but Curse-Breakers beg to disagree. So does Charlie.


	9. Treasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something has been brewing between Charlie and Rosemary, and it finally combusts.

Chapter Nine

* * * * * *

Charlie

* * * * * *

“Holy shit.” 

Jacob’s loud voice rang through the cavernous dragon’s den and Charlie’s head snapped up towards one of the six tunnels that had crumbled into existence when Rosemary had broken the dragon’s curse. A shaken Jacob and a relieved looking Bill were striding through the opening, both darting their eyes around the room as if expecting for some dark entity to swoop down and snatch them in its talons. 

“Rosemary!” 

Rosemary smiled wanly at Jacob as her brother hurried over to her. The sigh of relief she had given at seeing the passageways open had quickly turned into a gritted gasp of pain, much to Charlie’s alarm, and she had sunk against the wall looking paler than ever. She had wanted to try and start exploring the tunnels immediately, but Charlie had insisted that Rosemary stay put at least until the color returned to her cheeks.

Jacob dropped to his knees next to Rosemary and grabbed her firmly by the shoulders as he gave her an anxious once over. “Merlin Rosemary, I thought you were a goner.”

His face darkened as he caught a glimpse of Rosemary’s bandaged ankle, bruised face, and the splattering of blood on her shirt from her broken nose. Jacob shot Charlie an accusatory glare, clearly blaming him for whatever had happened to his sister on his shoulders. “What the hell happened to you?” 

“I got a little banged up,” Rosemary replied casually, but Charlie could hear the labor in her breathing as she spoke. “Nothing I can’t deal with. How did you find us so quickly?” 

“You could’ve heard the rumbling from all the way to Cairo; it sounded like a bloody earthquake,” Jacob replied empathically. “We just followed the noise. Took us long enough though; we bumped into a few nasty surprises that slowed up down.” 

Bill, who had been quick to follow Jacob across the chamber, thumped Charlie heartily on the back and grinned. “I thought I was going to have to write to Mum and tell her I got you killed,” Bill told him, relief bleeding through the humor in his voice.

“You got lucky,” Charlie told his brother flippantly. “Barely a scratch on me.”

“That’s not something most Curse-Breakers can brag about,” Bill said, looking slightly impressed. His eyes went downwards to Rosemary on the ground, and a worried line wrinkled his forehead. “Bloody hell, are you all right Rosemary?”

Jacob’s eyes flashed towards Charlie angrily. “Is she all right?” he said, repeating Bill’s question with indignation. “She looks like she took a Bludger to the face!” he growled, gesturing at Rosemary’s admittedly battered countenance. “But delicate and sensitive Charlie Weasley didn’t get hurt, so everything is fine. Isn’t that how it always goes?” 

“Stop it, Jacob,” Rosemary said wearily. “I would’ve died without Charlie with me.” A tiny thrum of warmth filled Charlie as her eyes slid upwards to his, and he couldn’t help himself from gazing at her as their eyes connected. 

Jacob’s eyes—sharp-eyed as always—hardened as they flashed between Charlie and Rosemary, and Charlie saw his jaw stiffen. The ice that had crystallized around Rosemary and Charlie had thawed in the past few days, leaving something raw and vulnerable in its absence that Charlie could feel pulsating between them. While Charlie treasured its existence, Jacob’s loathing for Charlie seemed to grow where Rosemary’s had diminished. 

“Oh yeah?” Jacob snarled his top lip curling upwards imperceptibly like a wolf about to lunge for the throat. “What did Weasley do that was so helpful? Trip over his wand while trying to shoot off some sparks?”

“He charmed the dragon,” Rosemary said shortly. “Stopped him dead in his tracks.” Her flatly spoken statement drew Jacob up short, and Charlie had to admit he felt some satisfaction at seeing the bellicose Curse-Breaker shocked.

“There was a dragon?” Bill questioned intently, mirroring Jacob, and lowering himself next to Rosemary. “An actual dragon?” 

“A cursed dragon,” Rosemary explained, wincing as she pressed a hand to her ribcage. “Dead for four millennia, and controlling almost every aspect of this place, including the curses. Look.” She brandished the strip of dragonhide at Bill and Jacob that was still clutched tightly in her hand, and Charlie could see that the key-like shape engraved in its surface was still glowing a bright blue.

Jacob looked completely disinterested in the piece of leather, but a look of recognition passed over Bill’s face as he read the hieroglyphs. 

“Blimey, what the hell did they do to it?” Bill said gapingly as he studied the hieroglyphs. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“He,” Rosemary said, and her eyes flickered upwards to Charlie’s and smiled at him with a look so imperceivable that he thought he might have imagined it. “Charlie said it was a he.” 

“Who cares if it’s got testicles or not? It was a fully grown dragon!” Jacob said, “How the hell did you manage to do that Rosemary?” 

“I told you, it wasn’t just me,” Rosemary snapped at her brother. Jacob—who had thus far been regarding Charlie similarly to the way one would a rotting carcass—tilted his head and narrowed his eyes appraisingly at Charlie. Charlie stayed firm under Jacob’s scrutiny; there were a lot of things in this world that scared Charlie, but Jacob Woodward had never been one of them. 

“Still,” Bill said as he held the hide up to the light and squinted at it. “One Curse-Breaker and a Dragonologist managed to take down _this_?” He shook the strip of the leather slightly as if the gesture would change its inscriptions to something less formidable. 

Rosemary sighed and clutched the wall, using it and Jacob’s arm as support as she struggled to rise. Charlie fought the urge to rush forward and wrap an arm around her waist as she stumbled to her feet, and watched as she took the dragonhide back from Bill. 

“You ought to have more faith,” Rosemary told him, grinning weakly despite her labored breathing. As much as Charlie had always appreciated Rosemary's unfailing resilience, her complete inability to sit still in the face of a crisis had always been one of her more anxiety-inducing traits.

“Or maybe bring your skills up to scratch,” Rosemary finished with a teasing laugh, and Charlie had to cough back a snort of laughter. Bill looked slightly affronted and opened his mouth to doubt ask more questions or defend his honor, but Charlie’s amusement quickly turned to irritation as he saw Rosemary’s face twist with pain as she pressed a hand to her chest.

“She needs a Healer,” Charlie said, interrupting whatever Bill was about to say sharply. “Your Curse-Breaking can wait. Look at her, she’s about to collapse.” 

“I’m fine,” Rosemary said, and Charlie could have sworn there was a slight softening to her voice as she spoke to him. “Honestly, it’s mostly the healing potion I can feel working.” 

“I don’t think a healing potion is supposed to make you look closer to death by the second,” Charlie said pointedly. Rosemary frowned and pursed her lips as if she couldn’t believe she truly looked that feeble. 

“Christ almighty.”

Once again, an exclamation echoed around the cavern. On the opposite side of where Jacob and Bill had entered, Fenn and Clinton were standing with wands brandished and mouths agape. 

“Nice of you to join the party!” called Bill to his coworkers. Charlie rolled his eyes; only Bill had the confidence to make it seem as if he had fought the dragon single-handedly. 

“We were expecting something quite different,” Fenn responded, looking askance at the chamber’s emptiness. “At least one dead body. If not yours, then the dragon’s.” 

“There’s your dead body,” Charlie said, pointing to the pile of dust, debris, and a multitude of iron chains that the dragon had disintegrated into as Fenn and Clinton approached them. “There isn’t much to leave behind when you should have died thousands of years ago.” 

“A dragon?” Clinton said excitedly; Charlie had the sneaking suspicion that he would not have been as eager if he had actually found a giant fanged and fire-breathing dragon alive and kicking. 

“As close to a dragon as you can get without it actually being a dragon,” Rosemary remarked. She tossed the strip of dragonhide to a confused Fenn and Clinton who examined its inscriptions with incredulous eyes. Fenn jerked her head up to look at Bill. 

“Did you see this?” she asked aggressively. “How in the name of Merlin are we all not dead?” 

Bill held up his hands warily. “I’ve been asking myself the same thing, Fenn.” Fenn looked unsatisfied with his response.

“How did you kill this thing, Bill?” Clinton asked wonderingly, handing the leather back to Rosemary. “I’ve never read of _anything_ like that.”

“Well,” Bill acquiesced, gesturing to Rosemary. “Jacob and I didn’t do much. It was all Rosemary.” 

“Well done,” Fenn said with a modicum of surprise on her angular face as she turned to Rosemary. “Not many Curse-Breakers could have done that all on their own.” Fenn looked up and down at Rosemary’s bloodied visage and grimaced. “But not without some heavy damage, I see.” 

“I wasn’t alone,” Rosemary interjected, ignoring Fenn’s concerned look. “I had Charlie.” 

The same flood of warmth filled Charlie again, and he had to beat back the impulse to smile widely at Rosemary. _Get a grip on yourself, man_ , Charlie thought to himself. _You can’t go falling to pieces every time she says your name_.

Jacob interrupted Charlie’s train of thought. “What happened Fenn, couldn’t make it out on your own?”

He had not unclenched his jaw as he stared down Fenn and Clinton. Charlie had to give Fenn credit; where Clinton looked abashedly away, Fenn kept her eyes steadily on Jacob’s glowering eyes as she answered. 

“As a matter of fact,” Fenn sighed. “I realized almost as soon as that tunnel closed that leaving the four of you behind was not the best approach to the situation. I should not have done that, and for that, I apologize. Sincerely.” 

There was a beat of silence as Fenn waited for their reactions. Jacob looked slightly mollified as he gave a tight nod. Bill’s face was impassive, but he clapped Clinton on the back anyways and gave Fenn a look that Charlie knew meant ‘we are going to speak about this later’. Rosemary offered a small quirk of her lips, but like Jacob and Charlie, said nothing else. 

For his part, Charlie could honestly not have cared less about what Fenn had decided to do. How could he, when all he cared about during this trip was standing in front of him, alive and as well as he could possibly hope for? 

Fenn gave a nod of satisfaction. “If that’s settled then, we should probably get to work.” She pulled a piece of parchment from her waistband and studied it carefully before tucking it back into her belt. 

“Right gentlemen,” she said to Jacob, Charlie, Bill, and Clinton. “In this area of the desert we’re looking especially for a jade and silver chalice, a ruby and topaz circlet from wrought gold, and an ebony spear tipped with a pure diamond point. So keep an eye out for those while we catalog. And you,” she said, swinging back to look at Rosemary. “You are sitting down and not moving until we can get you out of here.”

“Don’t you just take everything out and go?” Charlie asked. 

“I am perfectly able to work,” Rosemary growled at the same.

Fenn ignored Rosemary and gestured for Bill to explain to Charlie.

“The Gringotts goblins have a very specific way of operating,” Bill explained. “We only take goblin-made items, gold or jewelry minted by goblins that wizards buried with them and leave everything else.” 

“Why?” asked Charlie. Next to Jacob, Rosemary was turning red as she glared furiously at Fenn. 

“Goblins have very strict ideas of property ownership,” Clinton put in. “Anything made or forged by goblins belong to the goblins in perpetuity. A witch or wizard buying an item is seen as a…rental of sorts until the death of that particular witch or wizard. So all this goblin-forged treasure buried hundreds of feet underground, it’s damn near sacrilege to goblins. Which is why they pay so much to take it out.” 

“But if they were to take the human-made treasures as well…that would be a tad hypocritical of them, wouldn’t it? So we carry these,” Fenn waved her wand, and the thickest tome Charlie had ever seen popped into existence and landed heavily into Fenn’s waiting hands. “Ledgers detailing every single artifact bought or sold in this area, including descriptions, possible locations, which ones are missing and which have been recovered.” 

“All of them?” Charlie asked, slightly bug-eyed. “Every single one in the last five thousand years?” 

“Goblins have very, very long memories,” Fenn said with a grin. 

“I can work!” Rosemary interrupted angrily; her hands were on her hips now. “I want to finish the job.”

“There’s nothing to finish,” Fenn replied. “We came down into the treasure room what…twenty yards down that there tunnel, right Clinton?” Clinton nodded, and Rosemary’s frown deepened even further. 

“She doesn’t need to rest,” Charlie interjected loudly. Rosemary beamed at him so widely that Charlie was loath to finish his sentence. “She needs to see a Healer immediately. We should leave, now.” 

The look that Rosemary gave him was so furious that Charlie almost preferred the iciness. Almost. 

Rosemary,” Charlie said quietly, taking a step closer to her. “The chain hit you awfully hard. You need to heal, and this isn’t the ideal place to do it.” 

“You won’t be able to carry much anyways,” Bill put in, but his suggestion seemed to only draw more ire from Rosemary.

“I should be helping,” Rosemary said emphatically. “Am I just going to sit on my arse while the rest of you slave away? I need to help.” 

“No way,” Jacob said sharply. “Fenn’s right, you’re not moving until we leave.” He turned his glare to Rosemary, who glared back with her hands set on her hips. Something unspoken seemed to pass between them, and Rosemary’s expression changed from anger to exasperation. 

“Fine!” Rosemary exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. “It seems as if I’ve been overruled. But we are not leaving. Let’s all go to the treasure room, and I’ll sit down as much as you all desperately want me to.” 

That seemed to satisfy Jacob, but Charlie felt the anxious feeling return as he remembered the force with which Rosemary was thrown backward. 

Rosemary stomped a few steps towards the tunnel which Fenn and Clinton had emerged. Almost automatically, Charlie moved forward to follow close behind her. She had only gone a few yards when she stopped dead in her tracks. 

“Oh,” Charlie heard her murmur as she looked down at her feet with surprise. “I think I am going to need that Healer.” 

Charlie watched as she wavered for a moment on the spot, and collapsed sideways. He dove forward, catching her against his chest the moment before she fell against the hard-packed dirt. For a moment, despite the four other people that surrounded him, there was only him and Rosemary as he pressed a hand to her pale, warm cheek and called her name, asking her to wake up now, please. His other hand was pressed to the small of her back as he cradled her gingerly, yelling at Jacob and Bill to do something for Merlin’s sake. 

And then just as suddenly as she had collapsed, Rosemary was out of Charlie’s arms and snatched away by Jacob who laid her carefully against the ground as he and Bill yelled at Fenn and Clinton with panic as to what to do. It was all Charlie could but to stare at Rosemary, stirring slightly on the ground, the way her hair looked like a pool of ink splayed around her, and feel the ache like that of a phantom limb that letting go of her had left. 

* * *

_Very Late June 1991_

“Wood keeps trying to get me to convince you to go all-England, did you know?”

“He’s finally switching tactics, is he? He’d taken shoving recruitment leaflets into my school books for ages. Honestly, I think he’s on their payroll.” 

The sun that shone through the branches of the great beech tree in the late afternoon at the edge of the Black Lake was warm and bright, and Charlie and Rosemary laid in its dappled warmth as they lounged away the hours until the last End-of-Term Feast of their magical education began. 

Tomorrow, Charlie would leave Hogwarts the way he arrived, on the tiny boats across the Black Lake and back on the last train home. But today, Charlie’s head was in Rosemary’s lap as her hands fiddled absentmindedly with his hair, completely and thoroughly content. 

“He is of the very strong opinion that you are—and I’m quoting, mind you— ‘squandering the world’s most precious gift. Please do something Woodward, I’m begging you,’” Rosemary said, mimicking Wood’s strong Scottish accent. 

Charlie chuckled. “That sounds like Wood. Imagine how bad it would be if he knew about the interest letter they sent me.” He closed his eyes, pretending that this was a detail of little consequence.

“Charlie,” Rosemary said slowly. “Are you meaning to tell me that the English National Quidditch team wants you to play Seeker for them?”

Charlie kept his face perfectly still as he answered. “Sort of…” He opened his eyes and peeked at Rosemary, who was staring at him with wide eyes and an open mouth. “Kidding!” he grinned. “I’m not nearly that good.” 

“Charlie!” Rosemary pushed Charlie lightly on the shoulder and looked immensely relieved as she resumed playing with his hair. 

“Professional Quidditch doesn’t interest me much,” Charlie said airily. “Basing your whole career on whether or not you win a game, it sounds exhausting. I’ve already gotten a taste of that here at Hogwarts, and as much as I love Quidditch I don’t fancy the feeling of that for the rest of my life.” 

“Besides,” Rosemary added next to him. “I mean honestly Charlie, is there anything in this world that you wouldn’t give up for dragons?” 

“I can think of a few things,” Charlie replied, reaching a hand up and pressing it to Rosemary’s cheek. She smiled slightly and bent down to kiss him lightly on the nose, but the soft look on her face was quickly replaced by one of worry.

“What is it?” Charlie asked curiously.

Rosemary looked down at Charlie seriously. “You’ll be in Wales most of the year. I’ll be in London. Is that going to work?” 

“Wales is practically right next door,” Charlie replied easily. “You could probably even fly there, although I really wouldn’t recommend taking a broomstick up a mountain.” 

“I suppose,” Rosemary said with a frown. “And I’m willing to bet that Floo Powder still works there, although we’ll have to rule out Apparition on your end.” She gave Charlie a teasing smile, the worry easing from her face. 

“My exam is scheduled for next week!” Charlie replied emphatically. “I can’t believe they honestly made me wait six months to retake it.” 

“To be fair, Rosemary said with mock seriousness. “I think they were trying to mitigate any potential breaches to the Statute of Secrecy.” She covered her mouth, trying to repress her giggles. “That poor woman….”

Charlie swung himself upwards, indignant. His failed Appartiton test was a very touchy subject to Charlie, thanks in particular to his brothers’ near incessant teasing.

“They told us,” Charlie said furiously. “‘At the crossing of Church Road and Mill Lane’. They should have made sure there wasn’t an identical crossing only five miles away!” 

Rosemary only looked more amused as the laughter spilled from her lips. The sound warmed Charlie from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. Charlie crossed his arms and struggled to keep the frown on his face. “I could’ve gotten it if they had given me another go. Can’t believe they made me wait six months,” he repeated, grumbling. 

Rosemary touched the corner of Charlie’s lip, pulling the corner of his mouth upwards with the tip of her finger into a smile. “I’m sure you could’ve. I have all the confidence in the world in you.” She smiled at him warmly, and Charlie couldn’t help himself. 

He cupped a hand underneath Rosemary’s chin and kissed her full on the lips. He felt Rosemary’s arms wrap around his neck, and they toppled entwined back onto the grass as the kiss deepened. They spent the next few minutes blissfully unaware of their surroundings. A blazing fire could have burned down everything around them, and Charlie would have been quite unable to think past the treasure that he held in between hands. 

Minutes—or maybe hours—had passed when a loud wolf whistle pierced the air, and Charlie heard someone shout from a distance.

“Oi, they're over here! And Barnaby owes me ten Sickles!” 

Merula’s crowing voice rang out, breaking the quiet stillness of the moment. Charlie and Rosemary broke apart, and Rosemary gave an audible groan as Charlie sighed and pressed a final kiss to Rosemary’s temple.

“They were going to find out eventually,” Charlie muttered as the loud chatter of their friends got closer and closer. “But did it have to be now?” 

Rosemary laughed as Merula came into view, her elfish face triumphant as she looked down at Charlie and Rosemary looking expectantly at her on the grass. 

“I bet Barnaby ten Sickles I would catch the pair of you snogging by the end of term, but he said Rosemary was too smart to get caught.” She gave the pair of them an evil grin before continuing. “But I’ve known Woodward for close to eight years now, so I wasn’t so sure.” 

Merula cackled at her own joke as she thumped down hard on the grass next to Rosemary. Charlie exchanged a rueful look with Rosemary before they straightened themselves up.

“My favorite part about that sentence was that Barnaby apparently didn’t trust my smarts as much as Rosemary’s,” Charlie grumbled as he brushed the bits of grass and dirt that he had collected off of his robes. 

“We all know Rosemary is the beauty _and_ the brains in this relationship,” Barnaby grinned as he plopped down next to Charlie and stretched his arms languidly behind his head, seemingly completely unfazed by the confirmation of the existence of Charlie and Rosemary’s relationship.

“And what do I bring to the table exactly, then?” Charlie asked Merula and Barnaby, raising a curious eyebrow at the two Slytherins. “Doesn’t seem like I have much going for me according to you lot.” 

“You have plenty going for you Charlie!” Merula said, placing an angelic expression on her face that Charlie didn’t believe for a second. “An unhealthy obsession with fire breathing monsters?”

“Above average flying skills?” Barnaby added, much more innocently than Merula. 

“A hot older brother?” Charlie felt his stomach lurch at Merula’s comment, and he forced himself to laugh brittle despite the coldness that had suddenly washed over the sunny afternoon. 

“Stop that,” Rosemary chided, shooting a dirty look at Barnaby and Merula who were having trouble containing their laughter. She wrapped her hand around Charlie’s and squeezed it once, giving him a look that made his heart stutter and his face warm. “Just because you lot don’t appreciate Charlie doesn’t mean _I_ don’t.”

“I’m sure you’ve been appreciating our Charlie aplenty, right Rosemary?” 

Tonks—the only person who made Charlie feel like she was a foot taller than him even though she was several inches shorter than him—was standing next to Penny and wagging her eyebrows suggestively at Rosemary and Charlie. Charlie felt himself flush, from the tips of his ears to the low of his back. No one could embarrass Charlie like Nymphadora Tonks, even Merula, and even Rosemary. 

“And how long have you all known about this?” Rosemary asked with a raised eyebrow and crooked grin, unbothered by Tonks’ teasing but with a strong pink tinge in her cheeks. “I thought we were doing so well, but apparently I was wrong.” 

“Oh please,” Tonks chortled as she settled onto the grass, “You couldn't have been more obvious if you had shouted it from the Astronomy Tower. You breakfast together every morning and hold hands under the table, but sure, try and convince everyone you're ‘just mates’.” 

“Although I am a little miffed you didn’t tell me, Rosemary,” Penny added with a tinge of hurt in her voice as she sat gingerly onto the ground and gave them a narrowed-eye look. “We’re supposed to be friends, but I suppose seven years of sharing a washroom and the time you accidentally waxed off my right eyebrow in third year isn’t enough for you. ”

“We were trying to keep it quiet, Penny,” Charlie explained, grinning widely. “And well, telling you would not be conducive to that task, would it?” Penny stuck her tongue out at Charlie in response; she may have been the most well-informed girl at Hogwarts but that only meant that she always had something to gossip about right back.

“And why in the world would you want to do that?” Merula asked, rolling her eyes. “Everyone at Hogwarts knows you're mad for each other, and I’ve never met anyone who got gossiped about more than Rosemary.” 

“People gossip about me?” Rosemary asked lightly. “What about?” 

“Well let’s see,” Tonks said thoughtfully. “First everyone thought your brother was a murderous lunatic, then everyone thought _you_ were a murderous lunatic.” 

“And then people said that you were an unregistered Animagus just running around the castle, do you remember that Tonks?” Penny added. 

“McGonagall wishes I was that good at Transfiguration,” Rosemary muttered. “Honestly, where do people get this stuff from?” 

“And then people found out your mother was Spanish royalty or something, and everyone thought you were a Beauxbaton spy for a good fortnight.” Barnaby put in while giving Rosemary a suspicious look. “I still have my doubts.” 

“What would she even be spying on?” Charlie said bemusedly. “And when would she have attended Beauxbatons in this hypothetical scenario if she’s been at Hogwarts almost half her life?”

“Before?” Barnaby said with a shrug.

“Also, my mother isn’t Spanish royalty,” Rosemary frowned. 

“Wasn’t your grandfather Minister of Magic for like half a century, Rosemary?” asked Penny. “And then your uncle after him? That the closest we get to royalty in the wizarding world.”

“Grandfather was only Minister for thirty-seven years,” Rosemary corrected. “And he’s my uncle by marriage, not by blood. Never liked him much anyway, he’s a prig, and my cousin Deianira is even worse….” 

Charlie had never met Rosemary’s extended family, but they were a source of frustration for Rosemary who had often told him about her trips to Spain and the irritation she had endured. Apparently, her forced trips to the family’s estate in the north of Spain during summer holiday had ended when Rosemary was thirteen and had broken her cousin Deianira’s nose after she said something rude about Jacob.

“The point was to illustrate just how futile it is to try and hide gossip about Rosemary,” Merula interjected. “And therefore it is completely pointless for the two of you to hide your snogging from the world any longer.”

Tonks wrinkled her nose. “On second thought, I’d rather not see that if you don’t mind.” 

Barnaby grimaced and held up a hand. “Neither do I.” 

“I think it’s kind of romantic,” Penny said sweetly. 

Merula, Barnaby, and Tonks exchanged dubious looks and made loud retching sounds behind their hands. 

Rosemary and Charlie exchanged amused looks, and Rosemary pressed herself into the crook of Charlie’s arm as he slung it around her shoulders. Charlie felt a bit taken aback as to how natural it felt to act affectionate with Rosemary in front of their friends. Despite their penchant for banter, everything they had faced together had only made them as close as Charlie’s own family, and keeping secrets from them seemed only the tiniest bit silly in retrospect.

There was a stillness in the moment, as they sat looking at the ripples that the light breeze made on the surface of the lake. Charlie turned to Rosemary; she was the only one not looking out at the water. Her stare was fixed on a spot of grass next to Penny, gazing at it intently as if sheer force of will would make whatever she was imagining appear there. She must have felt Charlie’s eyes on her because she turned to him with a smile while rapidly blinking away the few tears that had formed in her eyes. 

“Wouldn’t you like to swim in it, just the once?” Barnaby asked, breaking the silence. He was staring out into the Black Lake with a curious look. “I tried once—to get a good look at the Grindylows—but Professor Snape caught me and gave me lines.”

“I suppose it’ll be one of the many mysteries that we leave behind at Hogwarts,” Rosemary said with a sigh. “How cold can it really be?” 

“What would they do if we did swim in it, expel us?” Merula asked offhandedly. “Fat chance of that happening now, given that Dumbledore had the opportunity at least half a dozen times by now.” 

The six of them exchanged looks, each of them grinning as they came to the same thought came to them at the same time. Barnaby was already on his feet, yanking off his shoes and throwing himself into the shallows of the Great Lake by the time the rest of them had stood up. 

“Last one in has to pet the giant squid!” 

“Barnaby, you’re going to do that anyway!”

Giggles and shrieks filled the air as their friends began to strip off robes, shoes, and socks, leaving behind messy piles at the banks of the lake. Tonks climbed onto Penny’s shoulder and Merula on Barnaby’s as each girl tried their hardest to push the other into the water.

Rosemary stretched like a cat as she stood up, excitement brightening her eyes and flushing her cheeks. She looked so beautiful, that for a moment it was all Charlie could do but stare at her with complete and utter disbelief that she was real, much less that she wanted _him_.

“Are you coming?” Rosemary extended a hand outwards, reaching for Charlie as he looked up at her. Her smile was a little puzzled as if she could see the hesitance in Charlie. The sun, just barely showing its age as it inched closer and closer to the horizon, glowed around her like a halo that would hurt his eyes if he looked at her for too long. 

But Charlie would go blind without pause if it meant he was able to look at her for just a single moment more. 

“I’m coming,” Charlie said as he rose, taking Rosemary’s hand in his, and together they followed their friends into the cool waters. 

* * *

_Rosemary_

Rosemary wasn’t quite sure how she had gotten back to Cairo. Some bits and pieces cropped up in her memories: someone catching her as she fell, Jacob’s agitated voice cutting in and out, the sudden glow of the sun that hurt her eyes, and finally, a Healer shaking her lightly on the shoulder as she came to, back in her room at The Pharaoh's inn. 

The Healer was a dark-haired witch, who looked so similar to the innkeeper that Rosemary had not at all surprised when she had introduced herself as Mistress Dalia’s sister. She had made a tutting noise when Rosemary had told her she had taken the wild lettuce and pufferfish extract along with the healing potion, chastising her thoroughly for mixing potions until Rosemary felt she was back at Hogwarts under Madam Pomfrey’s healing, but forceful hand.

Along with a dangerous reaction to the combined healing elixirs, she had been diagnosed with a cracked sternum from the chain, a crushed ankle from the impact of the fall, and something that Healer Calla had described as a ‘mild concussion’. Rosemary then had to endure the painful process of re-splinting her ankle to ensure it was in the right position and being thoroughly poked and prodded until the Healer was satisfied with her work and said her goodbyes after giving strict instructions to not move for two hours. 

Left with the burning taste of Skele-gro and Jacob—who had been hovering around the doorway trying not to be bothersome—Rosemary had learned that the entire expedition had taken less than six hours, which Fenn had apparently called a Gringotts record.

Fenn and Clinton were still at the site; having called for reinforcements at the surface to help with the excavation and to protect the artifacts from plundering thieves now that the curse’s protection was broken. Jacob complained that the trek had felt much longer going back up to the surface, but Rosemary hadn’t felt any of it, mostly because Jacob had floated her unconscious through the tunnels on a stretcher. 

Fenn had reluctantly turned her keys over to Bill who had driven them back into the city—“extremely poorly, I may add,” Jacob had griped—while Jacob and Charlie sat with Rosemary in the truck’s cab.

Rosemary had been absolutely mortified at the idea of being unconscious and magicked through passageways, and then another full hour being transported in a truck next to her brother and her first love, the former of which had probably needed to resist the urge to curse the latter.

As Jacob recounted, Mistress Dalia had quickly summoned her sister to take charge of a bruised and lifeless Rosemary as soon as they had stumbled through the inn’s doors without so much as a wince. Much to Jacob's chagrin, Charlie had stayed ‘annoyingly’ close to Rosemary’s room, reportedly unwilling to leave despite Jacob’s many threats until Rosemary had regained consciousness.

Rosemary’s stomach fluttered instinctively with the mention of Charlie, but she had kept her face straight. She could feel Jacob measuring her reaction to the information through narrowed eyes, and Rosemary wasn’t willing to give any other intimation as to what had happened between her and Charlie in the tomb. Jacob looked satisfied at her nonchalance and Rosemary breathed a small sigh of relief; she did not have either the energy or the desire to endure another one of Jacob’s passionate tirades. 

Once Jacob had deemed Rosemary’s condition as adequate to be left unsupervised, he had taken his leave, citing an “extreme need for firewhiskey as this has been a very stressful night.” Rosemary had waved him off, thankful for a moment to herself to think about everything that had happened to her in the past eight or so hours. It felt much longer than eight hours. 

Now, Rosemary sat alone in her room, staring at the cracking logs in the grate on the wall opposite her bed. Physically she felt fine, the broken bones had been reduced to only the dullest of aches thanks to the Healer’s impressive work. But her thoughts, her heart, felt like they had been tossed through a raging typhoon, left out to dry, and then carelessly stuffed back inside her. 

Charlie. 

The name was imprinted in her brain, a permanent fixture. These past few years, Rosemary had spent thinking she had slowly been rubbing the memory of him off her heart. Now, she could see the truth. 

Every time she had thought of him, imagined him, dreamed of him, she had been carving him deeper into her brain. As permanent as the scars on the dragon they had encountered. And now these past few days, she had thrown a bucket of saltwater on her wounds and sealed them, leaving their mark indelible for a lifetime.

Rosemary couldn’t erase him; she couldn’t cut him from her heart away from any easier than she could cut off her wand arm. Charlie would always be there, and Rosemary would always be in love with him. 

There was a firm knock on Rosemary’s door, and her heart skittered as she called out to whoever was behind the door. Jacob wouldn’t knock. 

“Come in.” 

The door creaked open slowly, and a red-haired head peeked in through the doorway. “You decent?” asked Bill, smiling widely at her. Rosemary felt another involuntary twinge of disappointment in her stomach, but she smiled back at the eldest Weasley as he eased into the room. 

“Unless you count pajamas and a sweater indecent, then yes.” She waved Bill over, patting the edge of her bed invitingly. 

Bill laughed as he sat down on the edge of Rosemary’s bed and studied her appraisingly. “You look…improved,” he said as if surprised at how recovered Rosemary seemed. “Honestly Rosemary, you’d looked like you’d gone through the wringer.” 

“Never doubt the power of magic,” Rosemary laughed. “Don’t know how Muggles get by without it, honestly.” 

“Dad’s been wondering the same thing for years,” Bill mused. He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “I am sorry you got hurt though.”

“I’ve had worse, Bill,” Rosemary said with a knowing look.

“I remember,” Bill chuckled. “You were an unstoppable force your second year, and I’m pretty sure you’re the reason Madam Pomfrey’s hair turned gray.” 

“I prefer to call myself industrious,” Rosemary smiled mischievously. “I believe it’s an important characteristic of my House, so I would’ve been doing my fellow Hufflepuff’s disservice to be anything other than maddeningly tenacious. And don’t worry,” she added assuringly to Bill. “I should be good as new to resume work tomorrow.”

“About that…'' Bill said, hesitating again. Rosemary narrowed her eyes at him, waiting for him to continue even though by his expression Rosemary was quite sure as to what he was about to say. Bill sighed. 

“Fenn thinks we should be able to finish on our own, so you and Jacob are free to return to London with our gratitude and a fair bit of gold.” 

“I don’t mind staying longer,” Rosemary insisted, straightening up in her bed. “I want to see the treasure room and help with the cataloging.” 

“Jacob thought it would be…best if you left tomorrow,” Bill said slowly. “He already booked a Portkey back at dawn.” 

Bill looked at her apprehensively after finishing his sentence, looking at Rosemary as if she was an Erumpent about to rampage, a notion that Rosemary was more than happy to fulfill. She lifted herself off of her bed, pacing across her room a few times before stopping suddenly with her hands on her hips and glared at Bill.

“You and Jacob already decided this then, without consulting me? Together?” 

Rosemary refused to ease her hostile stance, even as Bill lifted his hands pleadingly and leaned away. 

“You’re injured, Rosemary—”

“That’s bollocks and you know it! Jacob wants me out of Egypt for one very specific reason, and we both know what that reason is!” 

Bill sighed heavily, raking a hand through his hair in a gesture so like his brother that Rosemary was taken aback by the similarity. “Rosemary, you know that if you want to stay I won’t stop you and neither will Jacob,” Bill avowed emphatically. “I just thought that after everything…Rosemary don’t you _want_ to leave?” he asked bewilderedly. 

“Well, that’s something you should’ve asked before deciding for me, isn’t it?” Rosemary asked tightly. 

Bill looked taken aback at her words; his brows furrowed slightly and he glanced away from Rosemary, dropping his eyes to the ground with an abashed look on his face.

“You’re right,” Bill admitted. “I should have asked you what you wanted first.” Bill looked up at Rosemary steadily as he apologized. “I’m sorry.” 

Rosemary tried to summon up the strength to yell at Bill so more, but instead, she sighed heavily, letting the annoyance escape her body along with her exhale. “Jacob can leave tomorrow if he wants to,” she said finally. “I’m finishing what I signed up to do.” 

Bill nodded slightly and stood. “I’ll tell the rest of them,” Bill told her. He walked slowly to her door, putting his hand on the doorknob before turning back towards Rosemary. 

“I’m really glad you came to Egypt Rosemary,” he said with a small smile. “And I’m sorry…about everything else.” 

Rosemary nodded tightly and offered a slight smile in return. “Thank you, Bill.” 

Bill opened the door to leave, and before Rosemary could stop herself, she spoke out to Bill in a rush. 

“Can you ask Charlie to come in?” Rosemary asked, the words a little too fast to sound normal. She took a deep breath before continuing. “Please.” 

“Alright,” said Bill, looking slightly shocked at Rosemary’s request. “I’ll tell him to come by.” 

They looked at each other for a moment, and for the briefest of moments, Rosemary saw a hint of something pass through Bill’s face. Guilt. 

But before she could fully take stock of its meaning, Bill had shut the and left. Rosemary stared at the door that shook faintly in its frame. 

The request had left her lips involuntarily, as did much of Rosemary’s reactions nowadays. She didn’t know why she needed to speak to Charlie, or what she would even say to him when he arrived but the urge to see him was there, infinitely stronger than it had been in the last two years.

Rosemary busied herself, too nervous to stand still. Clothes and books were thrown haphazardly into her bags, scraps of parchment and broken quills on the night table were tossed into the wastepaper basket without a second glance, and the square of dragon hide from the tomb that Jacob had given back to her before he left was tucked into its drawer.

A soft knock made Rosemary jump, and her heartbeat began to skitter rapidly. One, two, three deep breaths didn’t help much before Rosemary gave up trying to steady herself. 

“Come in,” Rosemary called; her voice wavered. 

The door eased open slightly, and another red-headed man came into the room, looking wary and with intense eyes. 

Charlie. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, stepping into the room and leaving the door slightly ajar. Rosemary noticed Charlie kept a cautious distance, hovering near the door frame. 

“Better,” Rosemary said, a little breathlessly. “A few injuries that come with the job description, but the Healer took care of them easily enough.” Rosemary didn’t move as she spoke, aside from the nervous fidgeting of her fingers behind her back.

“You’re packing?” Charlie asked, eyeing the suitcase on her bed. 

“Just cleaning,” Rosemary replied, giving her work boots a backward kick so they slid underneath her bed with a small cloud of dust. “I’m staying until we finish excavation and then I’ll follow Jacob back to London.” 

“That’s good,” Charlie replied. The pair fell into an uneasy silence, both unable to make eye contact for more than a few moments before darting their eyes away. 

“Are you leaving soon?” Rosemary asked, unsure as to why she felt she needed to keep the conversation flowing. 

“Day after tomorrow,” Charlie answered. “I got a little curious as to what this Ancient Egyptian goblin-made treasure looks like, but I need to get back to Romania soon.”

“Oh,” Rosemary responded. There was another beat of uncomfortable silence as Rosemary and Charlie stood across from each other. An idea flashed through Rosemary’s mind.

“Here,” Rosemary said, quickly pulling the enchanted dragon leather from the drawer of her night table. She held it out to Charlie, who stepped forward to take it hesitatingly. “You deserve it.”  
  
“You did most of the work, Rosemary,” Charlie pointed out. “And you’re the only one who needed a Healer afterward. You should keep it.”

“No,” Rosemary said, shaking her head emphatically. “It’s…it’s my way of saying thank you,” she stammered, and the back of her neck began to burn hotly. She continued, sure that if she stopped she would never be able to get the words out. “You saved my life down there; if I had fallen through the cavern alone I would have died. ” 

“I would have died without _you_ ,” Charlie said quietly. “So I decided I’d rather have died with you.”

Rosemary drew in a sharp breath as the full weight of Charlie’s words hit her. Something was shaking deep inside her, an indescribable mass of emotions that made her body tremble and her ears ring. Charlie said nothing, only gazed at her with steady, but fervent eyes. 

“I don’t understand you, Charlie,” Rosemary whispered, barely able to manage the words.

Charlie took a small step forward, slowly and warily as if Rosemary was one of the dragons he cared for. Rosemary didn’t move, neither backward away from him or forwards to meet him. 

“I thought I knew you,” Rosemary continued quietly. “And sometimes you say something that makes me think I still do, but then I look at you again and I see a stranger.”

“I know that what I did was…inexcusable,” began Charlie in a low, strangled sort of voice. “I hurt you, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am and how much I’ve regretted it every day since then.”

Charlie stopped for a moment, shaking slightly as he spoke again. 

“But you have to know. I love you.”

The world stopped turning, but Rosemary could feel the ground spinning beneath her feet. 

“Please don’t say that,” Rosemary managed to choke out. It hurt to breathe again, despite Healer Calla’s best efforts.

“It’s true,” Charlie said intently, taking another step forward. “I always have, for as long as I can remember.” 

“But you left,” Rosemary interrupted; her voice strengthened and sharpened. “You were the one who left, not me,” she said, stepping forward towards Charlie. “Do you know what that was like?” she continued in a low voice. “To see you one day, and the next day get an owl telling me you're leaving for _Romania_? But don’t worry Rosemary, you can write if you want to!” Rosemary’s voice rose an octave, ringing louder around the room as she took another step forward.

“You went off to your dragons and tossed me aside like the last eight years were nothing. I loved you, Charlie—” Rosemary broke off suddenly; her breath caught tightly in her throat. She couldn’t continue then, only able to take ragged breaths as she was standing so close to Charlie she could count every freckle that dotted his cheeks.

“Rosemary,” Charlie breathed, his voice so tender and so obviously overflowing with emotion that it broke Rosemary’s heart all over again. He placed a callused hand on her cheek, and his palm felt white-hot against her skin.

Rosemary didn’t know what possessed her, what possibly made her believe that it was a good idea to do what she did, but perhaps she was too dazed from the battering of emotions to think clearly.

She fell into Charlie, rancor and bitterness were thrown carelessly to the wind. Their lips were on each other, fierce and frenzied and relentless. Rosemary tangled her hand into Charlie’s hair, pulling him closer as his hands encircled her waist and crushed her into him. They moved impossibly synchronized, hands and lips tearing into each other as any sweetness that the two of them had shared so long ago burned away into agonizing desperation. 

With a hard, swift kick, the door to Rosemary’s room rattled loudly as it slammed shut. Rosemary fumbled with the doorknob, never ceasing the embrace as she turned the lock.

Charlie’s kiss was so strong that it lifted Rosemary clear off of the ground. Rosemary wrapped her legs around his waist, and carrying Rosemary without difficulty, Charlie walked over to the side of her bed. They slid onto the sheets together, breathless and with their lips never parting. Articles of clothing were easily discarded, and as more skin was bared the more feverish Rosemary’s felt underneath Charlie’s hands. 

He asked her no questions this time; the intensity of their ardor spoke more than any words that either of them could have ever spoken. 

They were seamless and cleaved open, desperate and hushed, familiar and extraordinary, overflowing with happiness and isolated in loneliness. A host of paradoxes that no human being could contain alone and therefore demanded another to carry them along with them. 

* * * * * *

Charlie’s lips were pressed into the hollow of her neck and his breath tickled Rosemary with every exhale. Rosemary laid on her back and her trembling hand rested lightly on his head. There was a numbness in Rosemary’s extremities, a tingling that made her body feel weightless except for her heart that was still thudding unevenly in her chest. Charlie’s hand was splayed over it, and he tapped his fingers lightly to its hasty rhythm.

Rosemary stared upwards at the ceiling, studying it’s bumps and tiny cracks as she tried to make sense of what had happened. Her hand absentmindedly played with a strand of Charlie’s hair, twirling a loose curl around her smallest finger like a ring of the darkest gold. 

“I’m a moron,” Charlie mumbled against her skin.  
  
“Hmm?” Rosemary asked, distracted by the overwhelmingness of sensation.

“I’m a moron,” Charlie repeated, not moving his mouth from Rosemary’s collarbone. “A complete and utter imbecile to have ever given this up.” 

Rosemary laughed lightly. “That good?”

“Yes,” Charlie responded immediately. 

“Better than dragons?”  
  
“Almost,” Charlie replied, clearly teasing by his tone, but Rosemary felt a sharp pang in her chest at his words.

“I suppose that was the crux of the issue,” Rosemary mumbled. “Almost.” 

Charlie tensed underneath Rosemary’s hands, but he said nothing. 

“We could have worked something out, Charlie,” Rosemary said, and she winced slightly at the plaintive note in her voice. “If Romania was important to you, we could have worked it out.”

She waited in bated breath for Charlie to respond. After a long silence, he finally spoke. 

“I know.” 

Rosemary waited for a longer explanation, but it never came. 

“Is that all?” Rosemary asked with disbelief. “Is that all you’re going to give me?” Charlie didn’t answer; he had yet to move from his spot in the crook of her neck. 

Incredulous at Charlie’s reticence, even in the face of everything they had shared in the last day, Rosemary untangled her hands from Charlie’s hair and straightened, drawing the blankets tightly around her. 

Charlie finally looked up at her, brown eyes panic-stricken. He reached out to touch her, but Rosemary flinched away from his touch, letting the arm fall onto the bed.

“Explain, Charlie,” Rosemary said flatly as she stared at him. 

There was a real pain in Charlie’s voice when he spoke again. “I can’t.” 

“Then how can you expect me to carry one like this?” Rosemary challenged. Charlie’s mouth opened slightly before he snapped it close again, casting his gaze downwards to the bedspread. 

“Just—Rosemary, stay. Please.” Charlie’s voice broke slightly; the pleading tone was plain and palpable. “Rosemary, I just got you back.” 

Rosemary stared at him for a second, before nodding slowly. Immediately, the tension left Charlie’s shoulders and he let out a relieved sigh. Sinking back down into the bed, Rosemary let Charlie wrap his arms around her tightly again. 

They didn’t talk much the rest of the night. Instead, they spoke in touch, caresses and gentle kisses were their language. Rosemary treasured each one, locking them away inside her as the crackling fire turned to glowering embers. Charlie fell asleep first, trailing away as sleep took him under.

Rosemary stared upwards at the ceiling long after Charlie had drifted off. Her mind turned over every thought, every memory, and every conversation. It was confusion that had kept her in bed next to Charlie, the inability to comprehend how strongly he had reacted to her pressure for the truth.

Since she was sixteen, Rosemary had been in love with Charlie Weasley. But he was an enigma, lying next to her and so easily capable of putting Rosemary aside. Had she given him a reason? Done something, said something, _anything_ that had justified his choice? Rosemary didn’t know.

If Charlie could abandon Rosemary so abruptly, without a second glance back…what else would he leave her for later on? What would be the next reason that would leave Rosemary heartbroken and alone? 

Hours had passed before Rosemary reached her answer. 

She didn’t know. Rosemary would never know and therefore she would live every day terrified that he would be gone whenever she turned her back. 

Is that the way Rosemary wanted to love someone? 

No. 

The answer was very simple in the end. Charlie would always be there, and Rosemary would always love him. But Rosemary didn’t trust Charlie to love her back. Not anymore. 

When the night sky had lightened, faintly and with only the barest touch of dawn on the horizon, Rosemary had eased out from underneath Charlie’s warm arm. Dressing and gathering her things in the dark took all of five minutes and writing the letter had taken even less. Rosemary was lucky Charlie was a heavy sleeper; he was still snoring lightly when Rosemary eased open the creaky door. 

She took one last look at him before closing the door. His loose curls were messy and his mouth was slightly ajar, adding back the boyishness to his features that he had lost somewhat in the past two years. For one aching, desperate moment Rosemary was willing to throw her bags down and entwine herself back into his arms. To go back into his arms and forget everything that she had thought of during the night.

Rosemary closed the door. 

Jacob opened his own door within ten seconds. He had taken one look at Rosemary, nodded, and turned around to collect his things.

They left together, two dark figures walking silently, side by side on the slumbering streets of Cairo. As the cool air touched the streak of warmth that slid down Rosemary’s face, all she could think was of what Charlie would find when he awoke. An empty bed, a cold room, and a letter on the night table next to the piece of dragonhide.

_Charlie,_

_Don’t write. Don’t come looking for me._

_Rosemary_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter left in Part One! Can't believe I've gotten this far, but I'm really happy with how it's gone so far. I'd like to have it done before Christmas, but who can honestly know with me and my writing process. Anyway, after Chapter 10 I'll be taking a break for a couple of weeks since I want to enjoy my holidays and work on other writing projects. BUT I will be active on tumblr (@penandlily) where I will be posting some fic extras that I'm really excited to work on. Next chapter notes, I'll talk about how Part 2 is going to look like but for now here are my chapter notes! Please leave a comment or kudos if you like my work, it really does make me so happy! -Lily
> 
> Notes:  
> -Edit to my original note: there will still be a chapter ten but it's going to look different! more info on my tumblr  
> -What a gut-punch ending. I went through so many drafts of that ending before settling with the one I had. I always knew that Charlie and Rosemary were going to have an encounter in her room that was not going to end happily, but I had around 4 different versions outlined before I realized this one felt right. That was actually the very first scene I ever wrote for this fic; Charlie and Rosemary were going to fight and yell at each other before sleeping together and then Rosemary was going to immediately leave afterward. But after writing eight chapters of them, I realized that was so out of character for both of them that I had to start again.  
> -I think what I'm looking forward to in Part 2 is fleshing out Jacob's character more. His and Rosemary's relationship has a lot of layers that I've only barely touched. Bill will be expanded much more as well, especially concerning his role in Charlie and Rosemary's relationship.  
> -I think Tonks, Penny, Barnaby, Merula, and Ben Copper will have the biggest influences on the plot in this fic. Primarily Tonks (obviously) but also Merula quite a significant bit.  
> -Next Chapter: A series of vignettes from both Rosemary and Charlie's perspectives.


	10. Fragments (End of Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of vignettes of Rosemary and Charlie's time at Hogwarts, in chronological order. Also known as the no-plot chapter.

Chapter Ten

* * * * * *

Charlie

* * * * * * 

Year One

“Weasley, Charles.”

Professor McGonagall's voice rang throughout Great Hall, making the pit at the bottom of Charlie’s feel all the heavier. There were only three of them left to be Sorted now; a brown-haired boy with a determined look on his face, a black-haired girl whose hands were clenched into tight fists, and Charlie, whose heart gave a jolt as he realized that Professor McGonagall was waiting expectantly for him to approach the Sorting Hat. 

Setting his shoulders as squarely as he could manage and trying his hardest to stop the shaking in his legs, Charlie walked up to the stool that had been placed at the front of the hall. No sooner had he sat down than the hat was dropped over his ears and eyes, sending Charlie into darkness as he waited.

“Another Weasley, eh?” whispered a small voice in Charlie’s ear. “A long line of Gryffindors in your family. Your mother, your father, your uncles all did very well in Gryffindor, very well indeed. And your brother, he’s a Gryffindor if I’ve ever seen one.” 

_Put me in Gryffindor_ , Charlie thought urgently. _I need to be in Gryffindor._

“You want to be in Gryffindor?” the hat continued, it’s hushed voice making the hairs on the back of Charlie’s neck stand up. “Are sure about that? You have a kind heart and gentle hands, I can see that clearly. You would make an outstanding Hufflepuff, there’s no doubt about that. But that nerve, that impulsiveness! Only a Gryffindor has that kind of fire in them.” 

_Gryffindor_ , Charlie pleaded silently. _Everyone in my family has been in Gryffindor. I have to be in Gryffindor._

“You want to prove yourself,” the voice continued. “And you think Gryffindor is the only place you’ll be able to do that? Well, we’ll see how that goes...GRYFFINDOR!” 

Charlie felt the weight that had settled on his shoulders ever since the doors of the Great Hall had opened eased as an outburst of applause surrounded Charlie. Walking as quickly as he dared towards the jubilantly cheering Gryffindor table grinning from ear to ear, Charlie sat next to another newly-Sorted Gryffindor boy at an empty spot at the furthest left table. 

Materializing as if from thin air, Bill squeezed in next to Charlie as he clapped him heartily on the back. “Well done, Charlie!” he whooped loudly as the clapping began to die down. “Another Gryffindor! Mum and Dad are going to be ecstatic!”

Charlie’s ears felt hot as Bill ruffled his hair, but the pleased feeling that was warm in his chest only grew as his new Housemates welcomed him. _That nerve, that impulsiveness! Only a Gryffindor has that kind of fire in them._

The Sorting continued but the Great Hall getting restless as the idea of dinner approached, especially as only there were only two first years left to be sorted.

“Winger, Talbott.” 

Although his narrow face seemed much paler than it had been a few seconds ago, the brown-haired boy kept the resolute expression on his face as he sat on the stool and faced the rest of the school. Professor McGonagall placed the battered pointed hat on his head and the entirety of the Great Hall sat in silent anticipation as they awaited the hat’s proclamation. They didn’t need to wait long as, within a few seconds, the rip that served as the hat’s mouth opened wide and yelled:

“RAVENCLAW!”

Talbott Winger sagged imperceptibly as he swept the Sorting Hat off his head and handed it back to Professor McGonagall. The Ravenclaw table burst into applause as their newest Housemate joined their ranks. 

Finally, a lone figure stood in the middle of the hall. Charlie craned his head over the crowd to get a better view as Professor McGonagall read the last name at the end of her very long scroll. 

“Woodward, Rosemary.”

The last of Charlie’s new classmates walked slowly towards the stool with her chin slightly ducked. An audible murmur went through the Great Hall, particularly by the older students who immediately began to whisper intently to each other. Charlie could only make out snippets of whatever had piqued their interest, but the name ‘Woodward’ floated above the din. 

The girl—Rosemary, Charlie reminded himself—flushed a dark pink as she perched on the stool, her eyes downcast as the Sorting Hat was placed on her head. Silence overtook the Great Hall as they waited. A minute passed, and then another without movement from the stool. Students began to fidget and the whispering began anew.

“I think it’s a hatstall,” Bill murmured to Charlie out of the corner of his mouth. 

“What’s a hatstall?” Charlie whispered back. Bill waved away his question, shushing Charlie with a stern look. 

Suddenly, the girl's shoulders straightened as she lifted her chin and cast her eyes over the crowd of students with a look of decisiveness etched plainly on her face. For the briefest of moments, her eyes—bluer than Charlie have ever seen—connected with his from across the hall. And as the brim of the Sorting Hat ripped open widely, Charlie found himself wishing that she would be made a Gryffindor because the last empty seat at the table was directly across from his.

“HUFFLEPUFF!” 

Charlie’s stomach sunk slightly as the Hufflepuff table broke into noticeably muted claps as the whisperings of the older Hufflepuffs intensified. The girls slid off the stool and walked quickly to the Hufflepuff table, her hair streaming behind her like a sheet of black silk. 

He watched as the girl sat down at the Hufflepuff table; the only person who spoke to her was another black haired first year with silver spectacles, but whatever she said made Rosemary Woodward throw her head back and laugh. 

* * *

* * * * * *

Rosemary

* * * * * * 

Year Two

“I nearly had you that time!” 

Rosemary was out of breath as she leaned against the castle wall. Bill Weasley grinned at her, wiping the barest trace of perspiration from his forehead. He had utterly decimated Rosemary in their duel, but at least she had made him sweat.

“You’re getting better,” Bill told her. “Not that much better, but better.” 

“Yes, that’s very inspiring Bill,” Rosemary said crossly. “'Not that much better' was exactly what I was going for.” She crossed her arms and glared at the older boy. “Isn’t the point of these duels to beat you, not to get thoroughly trashed every other time?” 

“Hey, you did improve,” Bill replied defensively. “Would you rather have stayed the same?” 

“I’m nowhere near where I’ve got to be though,” grumbled Rosemary with annoyance as she sank against the castle wall, sinking her head between her knees.

“You’ll get there,” Bill told her as he sat down next to her, with real encouragement in his voice this time. Rosemary was silent for a moment as the words that she had been turning over in her mind during every one of their training sessions bubbled at the surface of her mind.

“What if I don’t get there in time?” Rosemary blurted out finally, lifting her head to look at Bill. 

Bill said nothing in response, instead electing to look off into the distance with an uncomfortable look on his face. 

Rosemary sighed. She knew what the answer was, even without Bill’s uneasy glances. If she didn’t get better, she failed her task. And her brother stayed lost. 

Someone cleared their throat, breaking Rosemary’s despondent train of thought. 

Standing a few feet away was another red-haired boy, shorter, younger, and with an infinitely larger number of freckles dotting his face. Bill sighed wearily.

“Rosemary, you know my little brother Charlie,” Bill told her, gesturing at the other boy.

She did in fact know Charlie, at least in the vaguest sense of the word. They were in the same year, and he used the work table diagonal to Rosemary, Rowan, Penny, and Tonks in Herbology class. But despite the friendship Rosemary had struck with Bill, the amount she knew about the youngest Weasley was surprisingly little. 

“Hello,” Charlie said, waving awkwardly as he had a set of textbooks clutched underneath one of his arms and copious rolls of parchment under the other.

“Hello Charlie,” Rosemary said with a smile, which the red-haired boy returned nervously. Rosemary couldn’t fault him; aside from her own roommates, Ben, and Bill, most of Rosemary’s other schoolmates avoided her like dragon pox. 

Charlie turned to his brother. “I need help with my Charms essay. You owe me for your Care of Magical Creatures homework, remember?” 

Bill cleared his throat loudly as he flushed, looking sideways at Rosemary with an embarrassed expression. “Alright, alright,” he muttered grumpily, standing up. “Rosemary, I suppose we’ll have to pick this up later.”

Rosemary followed Bill to her feet. “That’s alright,” she assured him. “I should get to the library anyway; I promised Tonks I’d meet her before dinner.” She looked over at Charlie who seemed to be avoiding eye contact, hesitating slightly before speaking. 

“Is it the essay on Shrinking and Engorgement Charms? For tomorrow?” Rosemary asked Charlie, the nervousness making the words come out quicker than she meant.

“Oh,” Charlie stuttered, continuing to look down as he kicked an invisible pebble with the toe of his shoe. “Erm, yes. It is.” 

Rosemary nodded as she hurried over to her book bag and pulled out her Charms notebook, rifling through it until she found what she was looking for and tore out the pages as neatly as she could. 

“Here,” she said slightly breathlessly, thrusting the pages at Charlie. “It’s my outline for the essay. Maybe it’ll help?” 

Charlie looked down at the pages, and for a moment Rosemary thought she had overstepped. But Charlie only followed his brother into a blush before tucking the pages into one of his textbooks.

“Thanks,” Charlie said, grinning at her. Rosemary smiled back happily as he met her eyes. “Bill says you’re really good at Charms,” he told her. 

“He did?” Rosemary said, looking sideways at Bill with surprise.

“Don’t tell _her_ that,” Bill grumbled. “C’mon Charlie, I’ll help you get started. Shrinking spells are easy.” He steered Charlie by the back of his robes, giving Rosemary a quick wave as he ushered his brother towards the entrance to the castle.

“Thanks, Rosemary,” Charlie called over his shoulder before letting his brother pull him out of sight. 

Rosemary collected her things slowly, not eager to arrive at the library in the slightest. She had already promised Tonks that Charms outline. 

* * *

* * * * * *

Charlie

* * * * * *

Year Three

“Did you find anything interesting?” 

Charlie whirled around, his wand pointing wildly around for the source of the voice but all he could see in front of him were the densely packed trees that filled the Forbidden Forest.

“Who’s there?”

The top of a head peeked out from behind one of the wide tree trunks. 

“Don’t jinx, it’s just me!” 

Charlie’s heart skittered, not just because of the nerves as deep blue eyes smiled winningly at Charlie. “Hello Charlie,” Rosemary Woodward said as she emerged from behind the tree with her hands raised warily. Charlie hurriedly lowered and pocketed his wand. 

“Don’t tell anyone I’m in here,” Charlie asked Rosemary hastily, the words spilling out in a rush. “Mum would kill me if I got expelled.” 

“I’d be just as well getting myself into trouble,” Rosemary replied lightly. “How would I have seen you in the Forbidden Forest if I wasn’t in the Forbidden Forest too?” 

“I suppose that’s true,” Charlie grinned weakly. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” Rosemary assured him. “Besides, I’ve known you’ve been going into the Forbidden Forest for ages,” she said nonchalantly, gingerly stepping down the shallow incline where Charlie stood, carefully avoiding tree roots as she walked. 

“How?” Charlie asked her with surprise. “Did Bill tell you?” Charlie’s brother was the only one who knew about Charlie’s excursions into the forest, but as disapproving as he was of them, Charlie didn’t think Bill would have revealed his secret. 

“When you frequent places you ought not to be, you tend to notice who else is sneaking around those places,” Rosemary told him teasingly as she jumped the last few inches down toward Charlie, landing delicately on the balls of her feet. There was a slightly proud look on her face as if satisfied with her own agility.

“You come into the Forbidden Forest too?” Charlie questioned her curiously. 

“Not as often as you do,” Rosemary said sheepishly. “I prefer exploring the castle if I’m going to be completely honest. The forest makes me nervous.”

“I’ve never seen you in here,” Charlie said with a frown, and a part of him wondered just how often Rosemary had been watching him slip into the forest.

Rosemary grinned again. “I’m better at sneaking than you,” and Charlie couldn’t help but smile back.

An ominous crack came from deeper inside the forest. In a flash, Rosemary had her wand pointed her towards the direction in which the noise had come from; Charlie hadn’t even noticed when she had taken it out. After listening intently for a few moments, Rosemary lowered her wand with the wary look still on her face. 

“How far have you gone in?” she asked, indicating towards the darker part of the forest. 

“Not that far,” Charlie told her, pulling out the piece of parchment he always carried into the forest. “It’s not safe after the first five hundred meters, so I don’t go much further than that.” 

“Five hundred meters?” Rosemary asked, her blue eyes popping out slightly. It didn’t detract from how pretty she was, Charlie involuntarily thought to himself. 

Charlie shrugged; there wasn’t much to the first section of the forest aside from being careful where you stepped. “How far have you gone?” 

Rosemary grimaced. “I broke a personal record following you,” she confessed, looking away. “I’ve always turned back once I couldn’t see the castle anymore.” Charlie had a feeling that Rosemary didn’t like admitting that her nerves had gotten the best of her. From all the stories he had heard about her, Charlie often wondered how it was that Rosemary hadn’t been sorted into Gryffindor. 

“Why do you come into the forest?” Rosemary asked Charlie, looking up at the treetops. The smallest hint of blue sky was visible past the high branches. 

It was Charlie’s turn to feel embarrassed. “I thought…I thought they might have been hiding a dragon.”

Rosemary bit her lip slightly as if struggling to stop herself from smiling. “Even though I’m sure that if there was a dragon anywhere in the United Kingdom, it would be at Hogwarts…I don’t think there’s one in the Forbidden Forest.” 

Charlie gave her a rueful smile as he leaned against the trunk of a tree.“I’m starting to figure that out myself,” he chuckled. He watched Rosemary as the amusement fell from her lips slightly, and she glanced at Charlie from the corner of her eye.

“Don’t worry,” she said with a soft smile, but the expression didn’t quite touch her eyes. “I know what it’s like to look for something that’s not there.” 

Charlie watched at her for a moment; Rosemary had the embarrassed expression of someone who knew they had spoken a bit too much. 

“Well…” Charlie hesitated slightly before handing her the crumpled piece of parchment. “I have a map. Maybe I can help you find what you’re looking for if you’d want?” 

Rosemary took the piece of paper, clutching it tightly in her hand as if Charlie had just thrown her a lifeline before smiling so radiantly at him that Charlie felt like he had been struck across the face by a beam of light.

“I’d like that.” 

* * *

* * * * * *

Rosemary

* * * * * *

Year Four

“What the bloody hell happened to you?” 

“Nothing!”

“You’re in a hospital bed, so it’s obviously not nothing!” 

With his arms crossed tightly across his chest and a deep scowl on his face, Charlie stood at the edge of Rosemary’s bed waiting expectantly for an answer. 

“It’s nothing that Madam Pomfrey couldn’t fix,” Rosemary clarified with put-on indifference, but her lack of concern seemed to only exacerbate Charlie’s agitation. 

“What happened to _telling me_ when you wanted to go into the forest? I would’ve gone with you!” 

“Hush!” Rosemary hissed at him while waving him closer, peeking past the partition around her bed to see if Madam Pomfrey had heard Charlie’s exclamation. “They think I fell off a staircase!”

“A staircase?” Charlie asked outraged, walking briskly to the side of her bed. “D’you think anyone believed a staircase did _this_?” He gestured emphatically at Rosemary’s plastered arm and reached out to touch the thick bandage that ran down Rosemary’s cheek before pulling his arm back at the last moment. 

“Will you keep it down?” Rosemary snapped, perhaps more harshly than necessary but Charlie's reproach was doing nothing to improve her mood or her sore head. “I’m already in detention for the rest of the month, do you want me expelled too?” 

“And what’s the point of not getting expelled if you wind up dead?” Charlie demanded. 

Rosemary fought the urge to roll her eyes. “I’m obviously not dead Charlie, we don’t need to go that far.” 

Charlie scoffed. “That’ll be a real comfort at your funeral. We’ll all be able to rest easy knowing that at least you didn’t get kicked out of Hogwarts!”

Rosemary straightened up in her bed, suddenly furious. “I’m not going to die, Charlie!” 

“It’s your third trip to the hospital wing this term Rosemary!” Charlie yelled, raking a hand through his hair stiffly. “What’s going to happen on the fourth time?” 

“Then I suppose we’ll have to hope there isn’t a fourth time,” Rosemary retorted. 

“This isn’t a joke Rosemary!” Charlie exclaimed furiously. “Just because you’ve got some sort of death wish, doesn’t mean that the rest of us want to end up hearing that you got yourself blown up in the Forbidden Forest!” 

“I do not have a death wish!” 

“Then explain to me what earthly reason you have for going that far into the Forbidden Forest, alone?”

Rosemary’s heart pounded in her ears as she stared Charlie down. She had never in her life been this angry at one of her friends and even though the reasonable part of Rosemary knew that Charlie was right, she was going much too far and being far too careless in her search, she just couldn’t bear to admit it. 

“In case you'd forgotten Charlie," Rosemary seethed. " _I’m trying to find my brother_! I’d like to see you in my shoes and do anything differently than me!” 

Charlie was silent for a moment. The anger didn't fade from his face as he and Rosemary glared at each other, but after a few seconds of tense silence, he threw his hands up in exasperation. 

“The next time you step into that forest, I’m coming with you,” Charlie said warningly. “I won’t let you go off and get yourself killed without me.” 

* * *

* * * * * *

Charlie

* * * * * *

Year Five

“Charlie!” 

The Hogwarts Express was temporarily obscured from Charlie’s view as Rosemary threw her arms around him in greeting, giving him a fleeting squeeze before releasing him. 

Rosemary may as well have Stunned him for how well Charlie reacted. One moment he was searching the platform for the girl he had thought of almost incessantly since June, and the next he was staring at her—slightly breathless—like an idiot because he could still feel the warmth of her cheek against his. 

“How was your summer?” she asked him eagerly. 

“Good!” Charlie blurted loudly, and Rosemary blinked with surprise at the forcefulness of Charlie’s response. “I mean…” Charlie backtracked, rubbing his neck with embarrassment. “I mean good,” he repeated, this time a much more normal sort of voice. “Did you have a nice holiday?” Charlie winced as his voice cracked on the word ‘nice’, but this time Rosemary pretended not to notice anything amiss. 

“As good as it could’ve been,” she sighed. “Mum came home very testy because Grandfather kept badgering her as to why I didn’t go to Spain with her this summer.” 

“I’m surprised the mumblemumps excuse didn’t work again,” Charlie teased. That was the ailment Rosemary pretended to have to avoid visiting her mother’s childhood home the previous summer, a fact that had made Charlie burst out laughing when he had first heard it.

“To be honest, I’m not really sure it worked the first time around,” Rosemary confessed. “I think last year everyone was mainly focused on making sure Deianira and I didn’t step foot on the same landmass after what last time. Although I don’t know what everyone was so worried about, her nose looked perfectly normal at the end of it all.” 

Rosemary said this in such a serious tone that Charlie couldn't help double over with laughter.

“I suppose we’d better get on board,” Rosemary mused, turning towards the scarlet steam engine. “Compartments only get harder to find the closer to eleven o’clock it gets.”

The red and gold badge pinned to Charlie’s chest suddenly felt very heavy. He had been pleasantly surprised to receive his own prefect badge during the summer, but he had been able to hear the dejection in Rosemary's letter when she told him that her Hogwarts letter had arrived empty.

“I’ve got to go to the Prefect’s compartment,” Charlie said awkwardly, turning away from Rosemary and feigning great interest in a passing luggage trolley. “Bill’s already on board; he’s apparently very eager to give everyone their marching orders.” 

“Oh!” Rosemary replied with a tone of surprise. “I’d almost forgotten.” A flash of disappointment crossed Rosemary’s face, but it left almost as quickly as it came. “You and Rowan will just have to come and find us later then,” she told Charlie, beginning to pull her trunk towards the train doors where her parents stood waiting. “I’ll save you some Chocolate frogs!” 

Charlie watched as she kissed her mother and father goodbye and boarded the train, very aware that he would have given up his perfect badge in a heartbeat if it meant being able to sit next to her the entire way to Hogwarts. 

* * *

* * * * * *

Rosemary

* * * * * *

Year Six

“Rosemary!”

She was sitting up in her hospital bed, the white sheets were scratchy against her skin. Was someone talking to her? No one had talked to her in quite a while, not after Dumbledore had taken Rowan away and left her in the hospital wing with Merula and Ben. 

“Rosemary!”

Maybe someone was calling her name…but Ben had long slipped from the hospital wing and Merula had since fallen asleep thanks to Madam Pomfrey’s sleeping draught. She had tried to make Rosemary drink one too, but Rosemary had refused it outright, not even drinking water because she knew Madam Pomfrey wasn’t above slipping the potion in. 

“Rosemary!” 

There were hands around her now. She wasn’t sure. Rosemary wasn’t sure of a lot of things right now. 

“You’re shaking.”

She recognized that voice. Did she recognize it? She usually smiled when she heard that voice, but she wasn’t smiling now so she must not recognize it. 

“They said someone died in the Forbidden Forest. I thought…” 

Someone did die. 

“Rosemary?” 

She looked up. Charlie’s eyes—wide and fearful—pierced through the fog. 

“I—” The words caught in her throat, strangled with anguish as the memories of the night began to surface into consciousness. The dementors, Rakepick and Ben dueling, a flash of green light, and the body of Rosemary’s oldest friend sprawled pale and lifeless on the floor. 

The despair cut through the haze of confusion that had surrounded Rosemary since she emerged from the Forbidden Forest dissipated like a white-hot knife in the chest. 

Rowan Khanna was dead. 

Rosemary clutched the front of Charlie’s robes, and the hoarse words spilled out as quickly as the tears down her cheeks.

“Charlie, what did I do?”

* * *

* * * * * *

Charlie

* * * * * *

Year Seven

“Sorry about the game, mate.”

Charlie waved off his roommate Thorin Fletcher’s sympathies as he buttered a piece of toast. It was the morning after the Quidditch Final, and his fellow Gryffindors had continuously been approaching him throughout the entire morning, each with the expression that one would usually attribute to having lost a very close family member. 

“You win some, you lose some,” Charlie sighed as he took a bite from his breakfast

“Yeah, but it would have been nice to win one,” Thorin complained as he poured himself a goblet of pumpkin juice. 

“It would have been nice,” Charlie agreed as he took the flagon from Thorin. Thorin handed it to him with a suspicious look on his face.

“Are you alright Weasley?” Thorin asked uncertainly. “Are you feeling okay?” 

Charlie was about to respond that he felt completely and totally fine when he felt a hand touch his shoulder gently. 

“Good morning Thorin, Charlie.”  
  
While Charlie hastily tried to choke down his bite of toast, Rosemary slid into the seat next to him smiling warmly at the pair of them. 

“Mornin’ Rosemary,” Thorin greeted her. “You don’t look particularly mournful either.”

“Is there something I should be mourning?” Rosemary asked interestedly as she served herself a bowl of cornflakes. Her leg pressed against Charlie’s as she settled into her seat, and Charlie felt his palms begin to sweat slightly.

“Gryffindor losing?” Thorin asked, with a tone that meant that it should have been extremely obvious. 

“It is too bad isn’t it?” Rosemary sighed, before turning her interest back to her breakfast. Thorin looked positively affronted at Rosemary’s nonchalance. 

“Something is seriously wrong with the both of you,” Thorin said with narrow eyes as he stood up from his seat. “This should be a day of misery and the pair of you are acting like you just snogged someone for the first time.” 

It was Rosemary’s turn to cough into her bowl of cornflakes, turning beet red as Charlie thumped her on the back, trying to hold back his own laughter as Thorin trudged away to commiserate with someone else.

“He really ought to be some sort of detective,” Charlie ruminated as he watched Thorin walk away. “Hit the nail on the right on the head, didn’t he?” 

“He most certainly did,” Rosemary agreed, glancing at Charlie before turning back to her bowl as the flush in her cheeks reached the tips of her ears. There was a beat of silence, and Charlie didn’t need to be a Legilimens to guess that both of their thoughts were on the events of the previous night. 

“Listen, what do you have planned for today?” Charlie asked Rosemary intently.  
  
“Nothing in particular,” Rosemary said thoughtfully. “Did you have any ideas?” 

He grinned at her. “I’d like to explore the grounds today. Want to join me?” 

Just saying the words made Charlie’s neck feel uncomfortably hot, but 

Rosemary’s face broke into a wide smile. “I suppose it would probably be best that we don’t interrupt the mourners today,” she said with a very serious tone. “Let me just finish my breakfast, and I can meet you in the Entrance Hall.” 

“I’m staying with you,” Charlie said resolutely, and he felt Rosemary’s hand wrap around his under the table. 

* * *

* * * * * *

Rosemary

* * * * * *

After

“Owl Post.” 

Jacob dropped the hefty stack of letters on the kitchen table, making the table rattle with the weight of the parchment. Rosemary—who had been staring out the window with her chin on her palms for most of the morning—jumped and knocked over her teacup with her elbow, sending it shattering to the floor. 

Jacob sniggered while Rosemary gave a long sigh. Her brother had been in rare form the last few days as if he had to be all the more irritating when Rosemary was in a bad mood.

“Really, Jacob?” she asked with exasperation, shaking off droplets of tea that had splattered all over her shoes. “Is that how far your humor has devolved now?” 

Jacob rolled his eyes as he pulled out his wand, fixing the china with a lazy flick. “Are sure you’re the one who didn’t lose their sense of humor, Rosemary? You’re much more fun _before_ I got stuck in a portrait for nine years.” 

“Sometimes I think I’d be a lot more fun if I’d left you in there,” Rosemary grumbled, picking up the stack of letters. 

“You wound me,” Jacob proclaimed melodramatically as he flopped into the chair opposite of Rosemary. 

Rosemary smiled to herself, not wanting to give Jacob the satisfaction of knowing she did indeed find him funny. “Seems like we’ll have the pick of the litter for jobs,” she continued musingly as she sifted through the envelopes. “I suppose our reputation precedes us.”

“Doesn’t help that our names have been plastered on the front page of every wizarding newspaper from here to Aberdeen,” Jacob reminded her as he propped his dusty boots on the kitchen table, completely ignoring the dirty look Rosemary shot his way. 

“You’re not that far off,” Rosemary remarked, handing Jacob an envelope. “This one’s from Edinburgh.”

“Pick somewhere exotic won’t you?” Jacob advised, tossing the letter aside without opening it. “Your graduation is the last time I want to step foot in Scotland for a very long time. A year at the very least.”

“You could help with the selection, you know?” Rosemary said with a raised eyebrow. “Or does all the paperwork fall to my lot?”

“I got the post, didn’t I?” Jacob replied, nonplussed. “Besides, we all know you’re the more...research-oriented of the pair.” 

“If that’s your way of saying intelligently that you’re correct,” Rosemary replied, but she still tossed half of the stack of letters towards Jacob, who sighed and ripped open the first one with a butter knife.

“Mr. Albert Dearham of Cambridge would like to know if we would be able to break the curse on the antique radio set his grandfather bequeathed him,” Jacob read aloud. “It keeps shouting foul words whenever he has company over. Rosemary, what kind of foul words do think a radio set knows?” 

“Rosemary?” 

Rosemary could barely hear him as she stared at the envelope in her hands. 

“Who’s that from?” Jacob asked curiously, craning his neck to try and read the lettering.

“It’s from Charlie,” Rosemary said quietly. The uneasiness that had stayed with her since Charlie had kissed her goodbye the previous afternoon transformed into something heavy that sat at the bottom of her stomach. 

“Why is he writing?” Jacob frowned. “I thought you said he was leaving for Wales in a fortnight?” 

“He is,” Rosemary croaked, her hands trembling as she ripped open the envelope. Part of her was praying that she was wrong, that this letter was not what Rosemary thought it was, that it was something else entirely and she would feel silly for worrying and laugh as she told Charlie about it later. 

But Rosemary knew what this was. 

_Dear Rosemary,_ Charlie wrote. _I wish I didn’t have to write this…._

_End of Part One._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> END OF PART ONE! Wow, I have been blown away by all the wonderful support I've gotten on this fic so far! Everyone who has commented and given kudos has given me the drive to continue writing and I'm so excited to continue this story for everyone who has followed the story so far. Unfortunately, I will be taking a short break before starting Part 2. I hope to have Chapter 11 published at the end of January, but between now and then follow me on Tumblr (@penandlily) for some fic extras I have planned as well as a few sneak peeks for Part 2! For now, I hope you enjoy Chapter 10! Please leave a comment or a kudos if you can, they mean so, so much to me. -Lily
> 
> -Next Chapter: Anyone feel like a game of Quidditch?


	11. Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beginning of Part 2. Welcome to the 442nd Quidditch World Cup, where Rosemary reunites with a few familiar faces.

Chapter Eleven 

The warm summer sun hit Rosemary like a spotlight as she touched down; the loamy earth felt solid beneath her. She grinned, stretching her arms out wide as if she had just finished an hours-long car ride instead of the brief seconds it took to Apparate from Diagon Alley to Dartmoor. 

Around her, witches and wizards popped into existence amongst the trees, including Jacob and her mother. The three of them stood in silence for a moment underneath the dappled green canopy of towering branches, before Jacob spoke.  
  
“Reckon that’s it then?” 

Beginning a few yards outside of the tree line from the forest where they had been instructed to Apparate, thousands of multicolored tents filled an expansive campground, stretching out almost as far as Rosemary could see. Tens of thousands of people had already arrived, turning the moor—which on any other day could have probably been described as tranquil—into the world’s biggest village fete.

“I believe it is,” their mother smiled, placing a hand on each of her children's shoulders and giving them a soft push forward. “We should get moving; we’re expected.” 

Rosemary, Jacob, and their mother followed two tiny witches who had Apparated a few yards from them out of the woods and into the closest campsite. A large throughway ran through the middle of it, and as Rosemary walked she was surrounded by hundreds of tents occupied by the world’s wizarding community, chattering and laughing loudly in every language imaginable. Despite attending a match of Bulgaria versus Ireland, Rosemary counted at least three dozen flags from other countries decorating the tops of the hundreds of tents she passed. 

In truth, Rosemary almost had to marvel at the sheer lack of awareness that seemed to be a global phenomenon amongst wizards. With a Muggleborn father, Rosemary had always moved through the Muggle world with relative ease, never having to worry about wearing something outlandish that would make her stick out on the rare days she bothered taking the Underground. But at least half of the wizards in the world kept to themselves so strictly that they seemed unable to blend in with Muggle fashion, no matter how hard they tried. She even spotted a man in what looked like a turn of the century bathing costume, complete with a swim cap and all. 

The atmosphere was intoxicating; every single person was buzzing with excitement at the upcoming match. Rosemary peeked into a few tents as he passed; in one, a group of pimply teenage boys was crowded around a model Quidditch pitch, complete with model statutes of the Bulgarian and Irish players that performed different plays when prodded with a wand. 

Rosemary expected to stop at a clump of tents with Spanish flags hanging over their entrances, but her mother strode past them without pause. 

“Where are we going?” Rosemary asked her curiously. She had been apprehensive when her mother had told her that they had been invited to watch the match with Grandfather and the rest of Rosemary’s maternal family. It had been years since Rosemary had seen them, and even longer for Jacob. 

“Do you really think that wizarding aristocracy would have agreed to stay in the same campground as the rest of the world?” her mother replied with pursed lips. “Your grandfather has arranged more private lodgings.”

At the outskirts of the campground, a narrow tent stood alone with two stern-looking men in gray robes at the entrance. Rosemary’s mother approached them, flashing a slip of parchment at the wizards who immediately sprang out of the way of the tent flaps. Quickly, she stepped into the tent, lowering her head to not hit her head on the entryway. 

Copying her mother, Rosemary ducked her head and walked through. Only two of her steps were surrounded by the off white color of the tent walls before Rosemary was back out in the bright sunlight.

Another campground spread out in front of Rosemary, but instead of hundreds of tents crowded together the field held around twenty resplendent dwellings of different shapes and material. They did have one thing in common; each was around ten times the size of something you would normally see at a campground. 

“Blimey,” Jacob said with a low whistle. “They really don’t skimp on the luxury, do they?” 

Rosemary’s mother sighed, frowning disapprovingly at the extravagance. “Barty should have put his foot down. The amount of magic it must have taken to hide this, it’s insanity.” 

They began to make their way through the campground. Whatever bubble of charms the field was surrounded with allowed for Rosemary to see and hear everything that was across the boundary, but made this entire parcel of land invisible to the general public. Instead of a packed dirt walkway, the path that wove through the tents was paved with smooth river rocks. Gleaming wrought-iron lampposts and perfectly manicured topiary trees lined its edges. 

“Who stays in these, Mum?” Jacob asked curiously as he studied the buildings with an appraising eye. The one closest to them had a drawbridge and a moat. 

“Heads of state, very, very wealthy wizards, or anyone with enough information to blackmail the Department of Magical Games and Sports,” their mother replied dryly. “Between your uncle and your grandfather, they managed to tick all three boxes.” 

Rosemary decided not to ask about the blackmail portion of that sentence. “Is that it?” she asked, pointing in the distance to a sumptuous tent the color of red wine. It seemed to be at least two stories and made of real silk, with glass windows and crawling ivy dotting its walls. A flag fluttered at its peak in the late summer breeze, with an emblem stitched on it that Rosemary vaguely recognized to be the Sanprudencio coat of arms.

“I suppose it is a tent at least,” Jacob blinked. “D’you think they’d let me and Rosemary borrow it for work trips after this?”

“You know your grandfather,” their mother sighed. “Anything he does, he has to do big. Come on, they’re waiting for us.” 

They strode directly up to the tent, where a burly man with dark blond hair stood at attention. He held up a hand as the three of them approached.

“Excuse me, madam,” the wizard said with a strong Spanish accent. “This area is restricted.” 

“My name is Cristiana Woodward,” their mother replied lightly in perfect Spanish. “And these are my children, Rosemary and Jacob. I believe we are expected.” 

The man’s impassive face did not change. “Madam, I repeat that this is a restricted area. Kindly leave the premises immediately or you will be removed.” 

“Removed?” Jacob bristled, his eyes narrowing. “I’d like to see you try and lay a hand on her.” 

The security man’s chest puffed up like a bird, sizing Jacob up and down as he took a step forward. Their mother placed a warning hand on Jacob’s chest as she caught him fingering the wand in his jacket pocket.

“Rodrigo!” A man stood at the entrance of the tent, tall and stiff with ashy brown hair and steely gray eyes. “What on Earth are you doing?” 

“Sir!” the guard stuttered. “I was just—” 

Amador Rionegro, the Spanish Minister of Magic, stepped out from the shadow of the tent’s threshold. 

“Threatening my sister-in-law and your master’s eldest daughter?” Rosemary’s uncle was not a particularly large man, but he emanated such an imposing aura of coldly calculating power, that Rosemary was not surprised when Rodrigo blanched, losing color so quickly that Rosemary was sure he was going to faint. The security wizard’s mouth gaped like a goldfish out of its bowl as he attempted to find the right words. 

“Go make yourself useful elsewhere Rodrigo,” Uncle Amador said flatly. “And hope you still have a job tomorrow.” Without so much as another word, Rodrigo threw their mother a pleadingly apologetic look before quickly walking off. 

“Amador,” their mother said, greeting their uncle tightly. “That was really not necessary. He did not know and was only doing his job.” 

“Cristiana.” Amador bowed with an austere smile on his face that did not show any teeth. “As charitable as always I see.” 

The thin line that was their mother’s mouth flattened even further. “That is where our differences have always lain, isn’t it, _brother_?”

Uncle Amador caught a double entendre that eluded Rosemary; his smile slipped as he turned his attention to Rosemary. “Rosemary, you’ve grown considerably in the past few years. Are you well?” 

While Amador’s eyes were certainly appraising, they didn’t feel leering like some of the other skeezy men Rosemary had run into in her lifetime. Instead, Uncle Amador had a habit of looking at everyone with an expression that read as if he were considering exactly how much usefulness he could extract from you. 

Rosemary forced a polite smile onto her face as she stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek. “Well enough, Uncle. And you?” 

“Very well, thank you, Rosemary.” 

Finally, Amador turned to Jacob, a flash of surprise crossing his face. “And Jacob,” he continued, quickly tamping down his shock. “What a surprise to see you back from the dead.” 

“I was never dead, Uncle,” Jacob intoned with an eye roll; he had never been one to be intimidated by their uncle. “Well, not technically.” 

Uncle Amador looked past Jacob as if half expecting someone to be standing behind him. “But no Martin?” he asked their mother. “I thought he might have been hiding behind Jacob.” 

“No Martin,” their mother confirmed firmly. “He sends his thanks for the invitation, but he had some projects to finish and could not join us.” 

Rosemary had to hold back a snort. She had a sneaking suspicion that her father would rather have gotten a tooth pulled than accompany them to the match. Between Jacob and their mother’s family, not even the Irish National Quidditch Team was enough to lure Martin Woodward here. 

“Come,” Uncle Amador beckoned, stepping aside to allow them entry into the silk tent. “Your father is expecting you.”

Only hesitating slightly, Rosemary followed her mother into the deep red walls with Jacob right at her heels. 

“Merlin,” Rosemary breathed as she took in their surroundings. 

“You’ve got to be joking,” Jacob said flatly. 

If they hadn’t been completely encased in silk, Rosemary would’ve sworn they had stepped into a Roman villa, complete with marble columns and fresco murals embossed onto the satin walls of frolicking satyrs and nymphs. 

A marble staircase wound of the side of the room, leading up to what Rosemary guessed were the bedrooms. In front of Rosemary, several cushioned benches and lounge chairs dotted the space. Sitting in one of them, distinctly aged but with a ramrod back: 

“Grandfather!”

Rosemary ran forward, dropping to her knees and kissing her wizened grandfather on each cheek. Nicodemo Sanprudencio II, former Spanish Minister of Magic, smiled broadly down at her and clasped Rosemary’s face between his wizened hands.

For reasons unknown, Rosemary had always felt she was her grandfather’s favorite. During every one of Rosemary’s visits to Spain, she had been doted on; Grandfather would take her on trips to the village—without Jacob or her cousins—and every night he would sneak her a piece of chocolate before bed.

“Rosemary my love, it’s been too long,” her grandfather sighed as he regarded her carefully. “You look just like your grandmother and your aunt when they were your age. It’s uncanny.” He frowned momentarily as he met her gaze. “Except your eyes. Those are your father’s.” The warmth that had filled his voice faded into a tone of dismissiveness at that note. “But the rest…perfection.” 

Rosemary bit down on the inside of her cheek as she recognized the ever-present and barely disguised inflection of disregard when her mother’s family spoke about her father. She slid out of Grandfather’s embrace, unease marring the happiness at seeing her grandfather after so many years. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jacob stiffen and her mother’s jaw tighten even more than she thought was possible. 

Her grandfather didn’t seem to notice, following her eye line over her shoulder. His eyes widened as he caught sight of her Jacob. “And Jacob! My boy, you haven’t aged in the slightest! How is that possible?” 

“Good genes, I suppose,” Jacob told him, bending down to accept a firm handshake. This time, Rosemary caught the double meaning. Despite the animosity between their father and Jacob, her brother was a Woodward through and through. 

“You could be Rosemary’s twin,” their grandfather mused. “It’s a shame the rest of the family couldn’t inherit your agelessness.” 

A muted cough came from the corner of the room. Rosemary jumped slightly, not having noticed the two figures that were standing slightly to the side. 

“Uncle Nicodemo, Aunt Felisa.” 

Uncle Nicodemo stepped forward, a smile as bland as his beige sweater as approached Rosemary.“How are you, Rosemary?” Nicodemo asked, squeezing Rosemary’s shoulders. “Father’s right, you’ve been away far too long.”

The third Nicodemo Sanprudencio had inherited his father’s looks and none of his charisma. Expected to follow in his father’s footsteps as Minister of Magic, as Rosemary’s uncle had grown into adulthood it had become extremely evident that a wet towel had a better possibility of taking the job. Instead, Uncle Nicodemo had been shunted into a corner of the Spanish Ministry while Amador Rionegro had been elected after Rosemary’s grandfather retired. If Uncle Nicodemo objected to this, he certainly hid it well behind a personality one might compare to watching paint dry. 

His wife—Rosemary’s Aunt Felisa—was a short woman with a very perennially pinched face, who said nothing as she followed her husband forward and extended her cheek for Rosemary and her mother to kiss and allowed Jacob to kiss her hand in the traditional way, which Jacob humored with an insolent grin. Felisa had been born into the Osorio family, the wealthiest pureblood family in Spain. According to Rosemary’s mother, she had been a much more pleasant woman when she thought her husband was going to be Minister of Magic. 

“Uncle. Auntie,” Jacob grinned, jovially ignoring Felisa’s sour expression at his casual greeting. “I haven’t seen you since I was…well I suppose not too far from the age I am now.” 

Rosemary jabbed an elbow into her brother’s ribs. It was no secret that Jacob had been missing for nearly a decade, but the particulars of his disappearance and seemingly unchanged countenance was a well-kept secret by less than a dozen people, most of who were Rosemary’s old classmates. 

Uncle Nicodemo and Aunt Felisa didn’t catch Jacob’s double entendre or at least didn’t care enough to. 

“It is certainly nice to see you again Jacob,” Uncle Nicodemo replied blandly. “Father has been so excited for weeks that he would get to see you and your sister today.” 

“Did Nico and Deianira come along with you?” Jacob asked curiously, poking his head around the room to see if any other family members would emerge from the fringes. Nicodemo Sanprudencio IV—or ‘Nico’ to avoid confusion—and Deianira Rionegro were Rosemary and Jacob’s cousins. Nico was Felisa and Nicodemo’s son and a year older than Jacob. Deianira was four years older than Rosemary and Amador’s daughter with Rosemary’s late aunt, Eugenia.

“They went out to explore a short while ago with Pilar and the baby,” Uncle Nicodemo explained. Rosemary had forgotten that Nico had gotten married a few years ago; the wedding had taken place only a fortnight after Rowan had died and Rosemary had flat out refused to go. 

“Someone willingly married him?” Jacob sniggered into Rosemary’s ear. “Poor girl.” While not quite as pugnacious as Deianira had been back in the day, Nico had always been a bit of a blowhard. Easily baited and eager to show off his pedigree, Jacob and Rosemary’s cousin was absolutely positive he would re-inherit the title of Minister of Magic one day. 

“Papa,” Rosemary’s mother sighed as she sat down on the seat next to her father. “I still don’t understand why you wanted to camp out here. It would have cost you so much less to get a few rooms in London.” 

Grandfather waved off her concerns with an airy hand while using the other to pour steaming tea from a pot that sat on the side table into delicate china cups. “It was nothing I cannot afford, Cristiana.” 

“And all the security,” Rosemary’s mother protested. “Barty assured me that the most strident of security measures were put in place for the Cup. Really Papa, I really don’t believe any of this was necessary.” 

“And Crouch’s assurances were the only reason that we came!” Grandfather argued. “With all the trouble Britain has had in the last few decades, I never thought I’d be stepping foot on this cursed island again. But I’ve always liked Crouch, you know that. I would have preferred him to that simpering fool Fudge as Minister, and so did Amador.” 

“I have no lost love for Fudge, Papa, but Britain has been peaceful for years. He Who Must Not Be Named has been dead for thirteen years.” Rosemary and Jacob exchanged dark, knowing looks at the mention of You-Know-Who. 

“You can never be too sure Cristiana,” Uncle Amador broke in. “Especially when on foreign soils.” 

“I think that the likelihood of you being assassinated at a Quidditch game is quite low, Amador,” she responded icily, with a look on her face that told Rosemary that her mother was the most likely to be a threat to her uncle’s life at the moment. 

“Are we interrupting?” 

At the entrance of the tent stood the rest of Rosemary’s family. Nico, with the signature Sanprudencio attributes of black hair and equally dark eyes, holding a cherub cheeked toddler in his arms. His wife Pilar stood next to him, surprisingly beautiful with umber skin and a nervous expression on her face. But it was Deianira who had spoken; she was the only one of her cousins who had not inherited the family’s trademark dark hair. Instead, her hair was the same shade of brown as her father’s as well as his shrewd gray eyes. 

“Not at all Deianira,” her mother said smoothly, standing up to greet her niece and nephew. Pleasantries were exchanged once again as the newcomers entered. Little Nico—Nicodemo the fifth at this point—seemed very interested in Jacob and kept trying to convince her brother to lift him up. Jacob eventually relented, his stony expression melting as his nephew grabbed at his nose. 

Deianira greeted Rosemary with a polite hug and a kiss on the cheek, which came as quite a shock to Rosemary as the last time she had seen her cousin, Deianira was screaming foul names at her as copious amounts of blood spurted from her nose. But her cousin’s nose was perfect now, short and straight with nos signs of its past trauma. 

Nico seemed to have matured a fair bit as well, giving Rosemary a firm handshake before pulling a chair out for his wife. Perhaps his wife had softened the more irritating parts of his personality over the years, Rosemary thought privately. 

It was an awkward reunion, there was no doubt about that. No one seemed to be quite certain what to talk about, moving from Spanish to English frequently as each tried to make the other party more comfortable. 

Rosemary looked down at her watch, springing up as she noticed the time. 

“Are you leaving?” Rosemary’s mother asked sharply. 

“Don’t tell me you’re leaving so soon, Rosemary,” Grandfather said.

“I promised a friend of mine I’d stop by her tent before the match,” Rosemary explained to the pair of them. She turned to her, giving her mother an assuring look. “I won’t be long, promise. It’s just Tonks.” Despite her displeased frown, her mother nodded in assent.

“I’ll go with you,” Jacob said automatically. Walking over to Rosemary, he muttered in her ear. “Please don’t leave me alone here.”

“C’mon Jacob,” Rosemary huffed, poking her brother in the side to urge him out the door. She should have known better than to think Jacob would want to stay without her. “We’ll be back soon,” she told the rest of the family. 

Rosemary and Jacob took simultaneous deep breaths as they exited the tent, exhaling loudly through their noses. “Well…” Rosemary mused drolly. “I suppose that wasn’t so bad.” 

Jacob cocked an eyebrow. “You and I have very different definitions of ‘bad’, Rosemary.” 

“That’s where our differences have always laid,” Rosemary replied, echoing her mother’s words to her uncle. “Isn’t it Jacob?” 

He grimaced as he recognized where Rosemary was quoting from. “You caught that too, did you? Wonder what that’s all about.” 

Rosemary shrugged. “They’ve known each other their entire lives, who can even begin to guess?” 

They were almost at the boundary of the campsite when Rosemary heard someone approaching them. “Deianira,” Rosemary said, blinking with surprise as she turned. “Is everything alright?” 

“Would you mind if I joined you?” Deianira asked with a hint of trepidation. “I could also use some air; Nico and Pilar didn’t want to stray very far earlier.” 

“Ah,” Rosemary vacillated. She had an intense flashback to her fist connecting with Dieanira’s nose. “Sure. Of course.” 

“Wonderful,” Deianira said. “Shall we?” 

Jacob gave Rosemary a concerned look as Deianira led the way out of the campsite, but Rosemary shook her head, warning him not to say anything unwelcoming.

They walked through the maze of tents again, with Rosemary only having a vague memory of the directions Tonks had given her the day before to where her tent was set up. She was certain she had gotten them completely lost when a voice called out to her.

“Not going to stop and say hello?”

Tonks was grinning at Rosemary from the entrance of a small, brightly colored tent. Her dark eyes twinkled at Rosemary as she walked towards her. She had changed her hair for the occasion, a multitude of tight spiral curls that were the color of shamrocks.

“I’m surprised they don’t have you working the perimeter,” Rosemary snorted, crossing her arms in playful teasing. “Don’t new Aurors do all the grunt work?”

“Are you kidding?” Tonks scoffed. “I put in my request for time off a year ago! Luckily Moody was still at the office or I don’t think I would’ve gotten it. Besides, security? Bush-league, way too easy for Aurors.” 

“How you managed to get Mad-Eye Moody to like you is beyond me,” Rosemary said, shaking her head ruefully. She had only met the formidable—now former—Auror once when she had visited Tonks at the Ministry, but it was long enough to learn that Alastor Moody distrusted any and everything under the sun, including his own shadow. 

“I like to attribute it to my dazzling wit and superior intellect,” Tonks replied, grinning. She peeked around Rosemary, catching Jacob’s eye and grinning. “Alright there, Jacob?” 

“Plenty fine Tonks,” Jacob drawled. “I like your hair.” 

“Why thank you,” Tonks said with a bright smile. “It quite literally took no time at all.” She looked past Jacob, spotting Deianira standing silently a few paces away. “And who is this?” 

“Tonks, this is my cousin Deianira. Deianira, this is my friend Tonks.” 

“Oh!” Tonks exclaimed. “I do remember. Nice to meet you Deianira, I’ve heard plenty about you.” She winked at Rosemary as she shook Deainira’s hand.

Rosemary groaned inwardly. Deianira had actually been civil for the first time in Rosemary’s life, but Tonks had been told the most awful stories about her ever since their first year at Hogwarts. 

“You were a Beauxbatons girl, weren’t you?” Tonks asked Deianeria curiously. “It’s a shame that is, having to live with the French for seven years. _Snails_ , blech.” She shuddered at the thought. 

“Escargot can certainly be an acquired taste,” Deianira replied, giving Tonks a small smile. “But I assure you, Beauxbatons was a wonderful school.” 

They talked for a short while, or at least Rosemary and Tonks talked while Jacob people watched and Deianira stared off into the distance. Finally, Rosemary had to say her goodbyes to Tonks, promising to stop by later in the night to discuss the results of the match.” 

“I’ll tell Mum and Dad you stopped by!” Tonks told Rosemary as she waved them off. 

They were on their way back to the campsite when Rosemary heard a familiar voice calling out loudly to her.

“Rosemary!” 

Rosemary and Jacob froze in unison. Deianira stopped also, looking over at them with a curious expression.

“Hello, Rosemary! Jacob!” 

Jacob swore under his breath. Rosemary’s breath hitched as she recognized the familiarly jovial voice.

Arthus Weasley was waving over to them enthusiastically from the entrance of another tent at the edge of the wood, dropping several sticks from the bundle he carried in his arms.

“Mr. Weasley,” Rosemary exclaimed with a horrible brightness as she forced a smile on her face, slowly walking over to the tent. “You came to see the final?”

“Yes!” Mr. Weasley enthused. “Bagman got us tickets, spectacular ones, Top Box!” 

“That’s great Mr. Weasley!” Rosemary gasped, genuinely enjoying his contagious excitement.

“Yes, we’re all quite eager” Mr. Weasley replied, positively bouncing with his enthusiasm before frowning slightly. “Didn’t the boys tell you?” he asked Rosemary. “It’s all they’ve been able to talk about in their letters home for months.” 

“No,” Rosemary replied faintly. “They didn’t.”

In fact, they had not mentioned much of anything for the last year. A short letter or two from Bill and complete silence from Charlie was all Rosemary had heard from the eldest Weasleys… 

“Jacob, how are you?” Mr. Weasley asked, breaking Rosemary’s train of thought. 

“Busy as always Mr. Weasley. We’ve just spent two months in a Nepalese monastery, but we’re back in London for now. Then back out into the world until the end of October, when Rosemary has to go to Hogwarts for her…job.” 

“I did hear about that,” Mr. Weasley said with interest. “Well done Rosemary, Fudge and Dumbledore couldn’t agree on someone for ages by what Bagman told me.” 

“I don’t think Fudge particularly wanted me,” Rosemary said with a shrug. “But I’ve known Mr. Crouch since I was in diapers and Dumbledore was pulling for me as well. To be honest, I don’t think Bagman cared much about who they appointed.” 

“And who is this?” Mr. Weasley asked with interest at Deianira who had lingered a few feet away from the three of them.

“Mr. Weasley, this is our cousin Deianira Rionegro. My mother’s family has come to watch the game, our Grandfather is a big Quidditch span.” 

“Rionegro…” Mr. Weasley said thoughtfully. His eyes widened as the name registered. “Rionegro! Your father is the Spanish Prime Minister,” he gasped, extending an eager hand to Deianira.

Rosemary half expected Deianira to turn her nose up at Mr. Weasely’s hand, but she only smiled politely and offered a hand in return. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Weasley. Do you work with the Ministry?” 

“Yes, I do,” Mr. Weasley told her. “At the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office.”

“That’s a very useful department, Mr. Weasley,” Deianira replied. “Perhaps my father would think of opening something similar at our own Ministry. 

Mr. Weasley looked half in love with Deianira at that. “Come sit, sit,” Ms. Weasley said, ushering them towards the campfire in front of two small tents. “I’ll call the kids out so they can say hello!” 

“No, no, that’s alright!” Rosemary said forcefully, but Mr. Weasley didn’t hear her protests. 

“Kids, look who's here!” 

Rosemary swallowed hard, steeling herself. There was a rustling at the flaps of the tent and three ginger heads appeared in quick succession where Fred, George, and Ginny emerged. 

“Rosemary!” Ginny bounded towards her, giving her a tight hug. “Merlin Ginny,” Rosemary gaped. “You’ve grown. You’re almost as tall as me now.” 

Ginny made a face. “I doubt that. I think I inherited Mum’s height instead of Dad’s. Where have you been Rosemary? It’s been ages.” 

Rosemary dodged the question, ruffling Ginny’s hair ruefully. “This is your Hogsmeade year, isn’t it? I’ll be able to visit you; I’m going to be around a little more often this year.” 

“Why?” Ginny demanded. “D’you know what’s going on as well? Because everyone refuses to tell us.” 

“Sorry,” Rosemary laughed, miming a zipper over her lips. “If your dad won’t say anything, then you’re not getting anything out of me.

“That’s exactly what Bill and Charlie said,” Fred complained as he sidled up towards them, shaking Rosemary’s hand. Rosemary’s stomach turned at the mention of Charlie. 

“Yeah, are you sure that you all haven’t been sharing notes on deflection?” George added, duplicating his brother’s greeting. 

“Quite sure,” Rosemary said through a strained smile. She turned to Mr. Weasley. “Is it just the three of you?” Rosemary asked as blithely as she could manage. 

“No, no,” Mr. Weasley assured her. “Ron, Harry, and Hermione have just gone to get some water at the taps, and Bill, Charlie, and Percy should be Apparating sometime in the next hour or so.” 

“Oh,” Rosemary replied a little breathlessly. The seven of them were silent for a moment, and Rosemary felt a tinge of warmth fill her cheek. She had a sinking feeling that the entirety of the Weasley clan had some vague inclination as to why Rosemary was so uncomfortable.

“Perhaps we should think about returning to our campsite?” Deianira broke in smoothly. “I know Father did not want us on our own for very long.” There was a slightly disinterested expression on her face as she spoke, but Rosemary thought she could detect a spark of humor in the back of her clear grey eyes. Rosemary had sneaking suspicion that Deainira could sense there was something amiss and was giving her a convenient out.

“Of course, of course!” Mr. Weasley acquiesced. “I’ll tell the boys you were here Rosemary, and feel free to come and say hello after the match so we can celebrate a win for Ireland!” He gave Rosemary an excited grin. 

“Thanks, Mr. Weasley,” Rosemary said with a small smile. “Enjoy the match.” 

She turned to Ginny, squeezing the young girl's shoulders. “Send me an owl with your Hogsmeade dates, Ginny. I’ll be back in town by Halloween, so I’ll come to see you then and buy you a butterbeer.”

Rosemary extracted a Galleon from her pocket, tossing it to Fred and George. George caught it between and frowned. “What’s this for?” he asked her curiously. 

“Whatever you lot are planning on betting on, I’m in,” Rosemary grinned. “I’m looking to make some money, and I know better than to bet against the pair of you.” 

Fred and George gave her wickedly identical grins as they pocketed her Galleon and waved the three of them off alongside Mr. Weasley and Ginny. 

Once they were out of earshot, Deianira began to pepper Rosemary with questions.

“The other names Mr. Weasley mentioned, are they also his children?” 

“Just four of them,” Rosemary answered lightly. “Bill, Charlie, Percy, and Ron. Harry and Hermione are Ron’s friends.” 

“How do you know the Weasleys? They are one of Britain’s pureblood families, are they not?”

“Yes, they are,” Rosemary said tensely. “And I went to Hogwarts with the two eldest, Bill and Charlie.” 

“Ah,” Deianira mused. “They are twins, like the two at the tent? Fred and George?” 

“No, Bill is older than Charlie and I by two years.” 

“Interesting,” Deianira mused. Rosemary wanted to ask her what was so interesting about the Weasleys when she noticed a figure standing near the entrance of the private campground.

“Dad?” 

Rosemary’s father was standing at the edge of the campground, his hands in his pockets and looking slightly sheepish. Unlike the plethora of older witches and wizards that Rosemary had seen at the campground, he was dressed in distinctly Muggle clothing but with a comically large shamrock hat perched on his head. 

“Dad!” 

She burst into a run, throwing her arms around her father’s neck tightly once she reached him. 

“There, there,” her father said, rather gruffly but squeezing her tightly all the same. “No need for all that.” 

“We thought you weren’t coming!” Rosemary blurted excitedly as she released him. “Mum said you couldn’t be convinced!” 

“I reckon I couldn’t miss this,” her father replied with resignation in his voice. “Might be the last Quidditch Final I get to see at my age.” He grinned at Rosemary, obviously tickled by his own morbid humor. 

“Dad,” Rosemary said, rolling her eyes. “By wizarding standards, you could be considered middle-aged.” 

“Ah well…” His sentence trailed off. Jacob and Deianira had closed the gap that Rosemary had run, and her father’s face hardened as he saw his oldest child.

“Jacob.” 

Rosemary didn’t need to turn around to know what the expression on Jacob’s face was: taut jaw, a slightly furrowed brow, and a glare that could pierce through dragon hide. 

“Dad.” 

And that was it. Both men turned their eyes away from each other, Jacob to the space just over his father’s head and their father to the third person with them.

“Deianira,” their father greeted, sounding slightly surprised to see their cousin accompanying his children. Rosemary didn’t think anyone in her family had forgotten Deainira’s broken nose. 

“Mr. Woodward.” It had never been Uncle Martin or just Martin with Rosemary’s cousins, always Mr. Woodward. Formal and stiff, and distinctly othering. “We weren’t expecting you,” Deianira continued. “Father will be very happy to see you.” 

Rosemary knew from experience that Uncle Amador would not be happy to see her father, but Deianira said it so smoothly that Rosemary almost believed it. 

“Is Amador here?” her father frowned. “I didn’t think this sort of thing was in his wheelhouse.” 

“International affairs are always in my father’s… _wheelhouse_ ,” Deianira smiled, albeit coldly. “We are here to support Bulgaria, of course." 

“Of course,” her father nodded. “Ireland knocked Spain out of the running in what, the second round?” 

Deianira pursed her lip. “Third.” 

The walk back to the family’s tent was short and silent. When they entered, all eyes snapped towards Rosemary’s father.

“Darling,” Rosemary’s mother said with surprise, standing up. “I thought you weren’t coming.” 

“Couldn’t bring my self to resist watching Ireland knock Bulgaria’s teeth out,” her father replied, and although his tone was light, there was a clear challenge in his voice. 

He shook Grandfather and Uncle Nicodemo’s hands, and kissed Felisa’s hand like Jacob, albeit slightly less smoothly. 

When it came time to shake hands with Amador, it seemed as if the two men were trying their best to shatter each other’s fingers. 

“Martin,” Uncle Amador smiled, the strain as he tried to keep his voice jovial evident. “What a pleasure to have you join the family.” 

Rosemary could hear the backhanded rebuff in her uncle’s voice.

“How could I not join my wife and children on a day like this?” her father replied through narrowed eyes. Jacob choked back a snort, and Rosemary tried her hardest not to let out a sigh. 

This was going to be a very long afternoon.

* * * * * *

At sundown, a small fleet of gray-robed security wizards arrived, ushering them through a private path in the forest. Grandfather refused to use the litter they offered him, angrily saying that just because he was ninety-eight years old didn’t mean he couldn’t walk a few meters. 

The box they were led to was sumptuous, with scarlet draped walls and gilded and plush looking chairs. There were no bleachers in this box, only around three dozen seats that looked like they could’ve been ripped straight from baroque France. 

“We won’t be able to see the champions when they receive the cup,” Grandfather announced loudly as they finished climbing the purple carpeted steps. “But at least we’ll have a bit more privacy here. The Top Box is always so crowded.” 

Directly across the field, Rosemary could see an almost identical box at the top of the stands. If Rosemary squinted slightly, she could see the outlines of people filing into their seats. 

Spectators began to fill the seats around them. Uncle Amador never sat down, instead electing to mill around the box shaking hands and smiling coldly. Deianira followed him like a shadow, never leaving his side from the moment they stepped out of the campsite. 

As the stadium began to reach its capacity, a figure walked up to Rosemary. It was a man, tall, with a shock of blonde hair but with a dark brow and equally dark eyes. 

“Please excuse.” 

He had an accent, something vaguely Eastern European that Rosemary couldn’t place, perhaps Bulgarian or Romanian. She gave him a cordial smile as she let him pass to the seat on her right, the last empty one in the entire box. He only stared at her for a fraction of a second before taking his seat and turning his attention to the pitch.

No sooner had the man sat down than a booming voice rang through the stadium.

"Ladies and gentlemen...welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!”

* * * * * *

  
Rosemary had forgotten how much she enjoyed watching Quidditch. 

The veela and the leprechauns were certainly interesting to watch. While most of the married men seemed to be able to keep their wits about them, it seemed as every single man in the entire arena was desperate to perform whatever daring feat would earn their admiration. Even Rosemary needed to blink away the daze from the Veela’s dancing, but in Jacob’s case, their mother had to yank him by the shirt collar to stop him from leaping out of his seat and into the stands.

Curiously, the man beside Rosemary had not reacted in the same visceral way as the other men around them. While others were practically salivating at the mouth at the sight of the white-haired women, he leaned away from the spectacle with clenched hands. His eyes were slightly glazed, the way that was typical around Veela, but he looked almost pained rather than enthralled. 

The leprechauns were somehow even more popular than the veela; the cheers were deafening when the Galleons began to pour from the skies but Rosemary knew better than to try and collect the coins. She and Jacob had spent three days chasing after a thief named Mundungus who had paid them in leprechaun gold rather than real Galleons. 

Even aside from the spectacle of the mascots, the game was even more thrilling. The Irish team was superb, flying in near flawless synchronicity. However, Viktor Krum was incomparable. Rosemary could hardly believe that he was barely seventeen, he flew as if his broomstick was just another one of his limbs. 

The man next to Rosemary was very interested in Krum; Rosemary could tell that his Omniculars stayed fixed on the Bulgarian seeker as he flew up and down the pitch. He left as soon as Krum caught the Snitch as the entire stadium burst into explosive cheers and applause.

Now they were back in the opulent tent, listening to the chants and cheers of the Irish in the campgrounds. The atmosphere was much warmer than it had been beforehand as if the excitement of the game had broken some of the tension

Little Nico had gotten fussy, and Pilar had gone upstairs to try and get him to sleep. Rosemary’s mother was sitting with her father and brother, talking rapidly in Spanish and breaking into occasional laughter. Their spouses were sitting at the kitchen table, slightly more awkward but amiable nonetheless. 

In front of the fire, Rosemary was playing Exploding Snap with Jacob and Nico, who had been very eager to learn as it wasn’t a popular game in Spain. Deianira was looking on with interest at their game; they had offered to deal her in but she had only declined with a shake of her head. 

Rosemary was slightly surprised at how different her cousin seemed. Cold yes, but she was no longer the smug-faced bully that Rosemary had had to endure during her summers in Spain. It was a welcome change. While maybe their relationship might never be the warmest, at least Rosemary wouldn’t be tempted to break her nose again. 

“Damn,” Jacob swore, throwing the deck down as Nico won another game. He had been in a foul mood ever since their father had arrived. “You’ve never played this before, how the hell are you so good?” 

“Superior skills cousin,” Nico gloated. Despite being well into his thirties, he seemed to take great pleasure in beating Jacob at Exploding Snap.

“Father said you were working as Curse-Breakers,” he continued. “With Gringotts?” 

“Ah, no,” Rosemary explained, as Jacob angrily shuffled the deck again. “We’re more like freelancers, taking jobs wherever we can find them.” 

“Is there money in freelance Curse-Breaking?” Deianira put, her eyebrow raised curiously. Jacob stiffened. 

“Enough,” he replied coldly. Deianira felt the change in tone and pursed her lips.

“I didn’t mean any harm.” But Jacob, already irritated by the day's events, seemed to be looking for a fight. 

“Some of us don’t like living off of our parents' wealth,” he said shortly.

“Deianira works,” Nico frowned, catching wind of Jacob’s ire. “So do I, if that’s what you’re implying."

Jacob switched attacks, ignoring the warning look Rosemary gave him. “Do you think Rosemary didn’t tell me what it was like those years when I was gone, what you were like?” he was speaking quietly, but the coolness of his voice broke the tremulous warmth that had grown in the tent. “I’m sure you didn’t mean any harm back then either.” 

“I was much younger then,” Deianira said, her voice beginning to freeze over. “I was not the same person I am now.” 

“Jacob, stop it,” Rosemary said softly. “It was ages ago.” 

Jacob ignored her. 

“Maybe she could have used someone, family, kindness. Instead, you treated her like dirt. Why? Is it because she’s not a pureblood like the rest of your society?” 

“Stop it, Jacob!” 

Their parents' ears had pricked at the word ‘pureblood’ and Rosemary’s exclamation.

“You do not know anything about me.” Deianira's eyes flashed as she stood up, her voice still ices cold. For the first time, Rosemary could truly appreciate the family resemblance as Deanira tossed back her mane of walnut-colored hair; she and Jacob had the same furious expression on their face. 

“I know enough,” Jacob replied icily. For a long, tense moment, Rosemary was sure she would have to break up a duel. 

Just in time, a commotion at the entrance of the tent broke everyone’s attention to Jacob and Deianira's standoff. 

“Minister, a riot!” Rosemary jerked her head towards the entrance; Rodrigo, the security wizard had burst into the room, with two of the security wizards flanking him. “People in hoods, attacking the campgrounds!”

“What?” her grandfather asked sharply, “What do you mean a riot?” 

“Setting fire to tents,” Rodrigo panted through short breaths; he sounded as if he had been running at full sprint. “Throwing people into the air!” 

Rosemary turned to Jacob, who had the same incredulous look on his face. Uncle Amador strode toward the entrance of the tent, pushing the flaps open.

“Listen!” he said sharply.

The room stood silent. The sound of echoing bangs and booming explosions grew stronger as they listened carefully.

A cacophony of terrified screams and shrieks joined the clamor, bouncing around the walls of the tent and reverbing in Rosemary’s ears. 

Rosemary, Jacob, and Deianira had their wands out before the horrifying sound had even ended. Without hesitation, Nico sprinted up the stairs to where his wife and son were sleeping. 

“Get away from the entrance!” Jacob yelled. In a blink of an eye, Deianira was standing next to her father with her wand pointed towards the entrance warily. 

“We must leave!” Grandfather exclaimed hurriedly. “Quickly, quickly! There is no time to pack!” 

“No,” Rosemary protested. “This is the safest place! It’s completely invisible to everyone outside of the boundary. If anything, we need to be evacuating people into the campsite!”

“That’s out of the question,” Uncle Amador snapped. “Our responsibility is to keep ourselves safe.” 

“There’s an attack going on out there!” Jacob exclaimed incredulously. “Don’t you want to help?” 

Amador only stared at him unflinchingly, clearly unwilling to change his mind. Their mother stepped towards, her eyes pleading. She knew her children well enough to know what they were thinking 

“Mama, you know we can’t just sit here,” Rosemary said softly. Jacob was already on his feet and heading towards the exit of the tent. Rosemary followed him, trying not to think of the fear in her mother’s eyes. 

“Rosemary!” her father said urgently, stepping forward to try and block her way out. “What are you doing, don’t go out there!” 

“Stay here, Dad,” Rosemary called over her shoulder, easily sidestepping him as she ran out of the tent after Jacob. “We can take care of ourselves, just stay here!”

“Jacob, Rosemary!” 

The calls sounded miles away to Rosemary as she and Jacob burst out from the wine-colored tent. In the distance at the first campsite, they could see flashes of light and plumes of smoke and fire. Neither of them stopped as they rushed out of the entry tent and into a flat split towards the chaos.  
  


As they reached closer to where the panic seemed to be emanating from, Rosemary and Jacob came to a grinding halt as the full picture of mayhem unfolded in front of them. 

“Death Eaters,” Rosemary breathed.

They were straight from Rosemary’s childhood nightmares, their faces hooded and mask, jeering and laughing with their wands brandished towards the sky. There were at least two dozen, and it seemed as if the mob was steadily growing.

Worst of all, high above their floated four figures in nightclothes, a man, a woman, and two little children, each being contorted into unnatural shapes or whirled like tops. Their faces were frozen in expressions of terror, not even able to scream as their torture continued. 

Rosemary pressed a hand to her mouth, choking back a muffled cry. Monstrous. That’s what this was. Monstrous. 

“Scum!” Jacob yelled, unbridled rage in his eyes as he ran forward. Rosemary was quick to follow, despite how difficult it was to move amongst people fleeing in every direction. “Fucking scum! LEAVE THEM ALONE!” Jacob pointed his wand into the mass of Death Eaters, a spell already at the tip of his tongue. 

Rosemary seized Jacob’s wand arm, pulling him back. “Jacob, don’t! If you hit them, they’ll drop them!” 

She could see the dilemma now, why no one was attempting to stop them or interfere. Any offensive attack towards the Death Eaters was risky to the people they were terrorizing, and the Death Eaters had no such qualms about sending spell after spell at anyone who approached. Jacob halted his attack, fury still brimming in his eyes as he scanned the surrounding space. 

“Come on Rosemary, around!” yelled Jacob over the din. “We can’t get through here, go around!” 

With one last desperate look at the children floating helplessly above her, Rosemary tore after Jacob, taking care to duck behind tents and canopies as they ran around the group of Death Eaters. She saw people as she ran past; some were doing their best to hide, some had their wands out and were looking panicking around, and most disturbingly, a few were looking up at the people floating in the air with a satisfied smile on their face.

Rosemary couldn’t stop, because up ahead in the smoke and illuminated by the blasting lights was a group of a dozen witches and wizards trying desperately to hold the Death Eaters back through the throngs of people running away from the robed figures. 

She was only a few feet away when Rosemary found four brightly colored heads in the crowd. Three flaming red and one clover green. Tonks, Percy, Bill, and Charlie were standing with their wands aloft, doing their best to deflect curses that the Death Eaters shot at the backs of the fleeing flock. 

For the shortest of instances, Rosemary felt Charlie’s eyes connect with hers over the mob. His eyes widened as he saw her, and Rosemary’s body moved forward as if pulled by an invisible rope towards Charlie. Too far away for her to hear, Charlie shouted something at her, and for a moment Rosemary was confused, but as a streak of fire shot out in front of Rosemary, singing her cheeks and the tips of her eyelashes she understood the warning. 

Dropping the hand that she had thrown in front of her face to shield it from the flames, Rosemary once again sought out Charlie in the throng, just in time to see a jet of light hit the ground in front of the four of them, exploding the ground on impact. 

Rosemary lunged forward, reason completely evading her as she watched Tonks, Bill, Percy, and Charlie go flying backward from the spell’s impact.

She felt a hand wrap around her arm, keeping her from lunging forwards towards the marching Death Eaters. “Rosemary!” Jacob yelled over the screams. “Where the hell are you going?” 

“Let go of me!” Rosemary yelled back. “They got hit—Damn it, Jacob, let me go!” She yanked hard against Jacob’s grip, trying to find a flash of red or green hair amongst the smoke, dust, and screams.

And then the sky exploded into green.

Screams filled the air as the emerald light flooded over the campsite. Rosemary snapped her head up at the sky above, and the horror that filled her then was the same one she felt in the dark forest in Albania three years ago. 

Because there above them, etched in smoke and glittering light, was the Dark Mark. 

“Jacob,” Rosemary whispered, clutching her brother’s sleeve tightly. “Jacob, the Dark Mark.”

Jacob was silent as the skull, serpents, and smoke twisted itself over the dark sky. Whispers and hisses broke out in the crowd of Death Eaters, for the first time seemingly uncertain of their forward march. 

And then all at once: 

_Crack!_

The sound of thirty wizards Disapparating rang through the campground. As quickly as they had appeared, the hooded figures disappeared, leaving nothing but an empty space and a path of destruction in their wake.

“ _Arresto Momentum_!” 

The cry came from all sides as the figures in the sky dropped like stones towards the ground. Jets of light hit them mere feet before the ground, slowing their descent as much as possible while Ministry wizards surged forward, catching the four people the Death Eaters had targeted in their arms or onto a large conjured blanket. Non-ministry wizards scattered, some still screaming or crying hysterically as they tried desperately to get out from underneath the emerald skull's hollow eyes. 

“Rosemary!” 

“Tonks!”

Tonks was running towards them, breathing heavily with her green hair was in a disarray around her shoulders and covered in dirt. Her bottom lip was split open and bleeding slightly. Rosemary threw her arms around her friend, embracing her tightly before pulling back and examining her carefully. 

“We only caught the tail end of it! Jacob and I saw the explosion, are you alright?” 

“We thought it was a riot!” Tonks exclaimed, smearing the blood from her lip over her chin as she wiped it from her mouth. “Then we saw the Death Eaters and…” She snapped her head upwards, the green light washing over her features. “Rosemary,” she whispered. “It’s the Dark Mark.” 

Rosemary followed her friend’s gaze upward, and the terror that she had tried her best to ignore since that summer in Albania flooded over her like a flood of ice water over her body. The Dark Mark after thirteen years….

“They were Muggles,” Tonks moaned. “The campsite manager and his wife. Death Eaters, Rosemary! Going after Muggles!” 

“What’s going to happen to them?” Jacob asked Tonks fiercely. 

“Healers and Mediwizards should be on their way,” Tonks hesitated, as she looked over at the multitude of witches and wizards surrounding the family of four. “They’ll be taken to St. Mungo’s for treatment and memory modification, but they’ll most likely be there for a few weeks after something like this. ” 

Jacob swore loudly as he took in the destruction that the Death Eaters had left behind. “This is a goddamn mess. I told Dumbledore—” 

Rosemary gripped Jacob’s arm tightly, digging her nails into his arm to stop him mid-sentence. Jacob yelped as he snatched his arm back, giving Rosemary an angry look that she ignored. This was neither the time nor place to divulge the information she and Jacob had. 

Tonks slid a hand through her disheveled hair and sighed again. “Listen, I’ve got to go find Mum and Dad and tell them I’m okay. I’m pretty sure I’m on duty now and we need to look for any stragglers that might’ve been left behind.” 

“Go,” Rosemary urged her. She bit her lip as she thought about “Send me an owl with your next night off. We need to talk. Everyone, all of us. Jacob and I—” Rosemary bit her lip, the reminder of the Unbreakable Vow she and Jacob made holding back from spilling every detail about Albania to Tonks. “I’m in Britain until next week,” Rosemary told her, “and I won’t be back until the end of October, so it’s best if we meet soon.” 

Tonks nodded tightly, but Rosemary could see a flash of curiosity behind her dark eyes. “I’ll send you a letter or stop by Diagon Alley this week.”

Rosemary stretched out a hand, which Tonks took quickly and squeezed. They stood in silence for a moment, neither of them needed Legilimency to know what the other had on their mind.  
  
Fear. 

Tonks sighed for a third time, pulling her hand away and taking a step back. She scanned her peripherals until she found what she was looking for. Standing awkwardly a few feet from them was Bill, Charlie, and Percy; Bill and Percy were looking hesitatingly at Rosemary and Tonks as if debating whether or not to approach. Charlie, on the other hand, has his eyes trained on the distance past them. 

“Does everyone include….” she jerked her head towards the Weasleys, clearly asking about Bill and Charlie. 

“Yes,” Rosemary replied with pursed lips. Next to her, Jacob bristled slightly as he caught sight of the two eldest Weasley boys. 

“Oh, this is going to be so fun, isn’t it?” Tonks asked dryly with a raised eyebrow and a half crooked smile, before giving Rosemary a small wave and disappearing with a loud crack.

“I’ll be right back,” Rosemary muttered to Jacob. “Stay here.” The last thing she needed at the moment was Jacob’s blatant animosity. 

Steeling herself to be as stiff as possible, Rosemary began walking slowly towards the Weasley boys who were still hovering at the fringes of the Ministry wizards trying their best to help the Muggles. Rosemary felt bile rise in her throat as she saw the two children stirring feebly. Neither of them could have been more than ten years old, and they had just been tortured and puppeteered like marionettes. 

Bill and Percy immediately began walking towards her, but Charlie—who Rosemary had been unable to stop herself from staring at as she approached—turned away from her immediately and took a few strides away in the opposite direction.

Rosemary did her best to ignore the punch of emotion that hit her stomach like a hammer on an anvil the gap between her, Bill, and Percy closed. 

“Rosemary.” 

Bill said her name like a weary sigh. 

“Bill.”

They both hesitated for a moment, before stepping forward at the same time and wrapping each other in a tight hug. “I haven’t heard from you in a while,” Rosemary said, her voice slightly muffled by Bill’s jacket, tightening her arms around him briefly before letting go and looking upwards at Bill. 

“I know,” Bill replied apologetically. “I’m sorry.” 

They were silent for a moment, neither sure how to continue the conversation. Unspoken between them was the tension that has stopped them from writing more than twice in the past year. While Rosemary was certain that Charlie had not told Bill what had happened between them in Egypt last summer, she knew that Bill was well aware that it had ended painfully. 

She turned to Percy, who was pinching the bridge of his nose to stop a nosebleed. “Percy, are you alright?” Rosemary asked with concern. “Jacob and I saw the spell hit the four of you.” Her eyes darted towards Charlie’s figure again. He was talking to a Ministry wizard, and though he was still facing away Rosemary could see him raking a hand through his hair as he spoke. 

“I’m alright Rosemary, thank you.” Some of Percy’s usual pompousness had faded underneath a grim expression as they shook hands. “Excuse me, Rosemary, I think those are the Healers on their way now, I’m going to see if I can be of any assistance.” He took a few uncertain steps towards the approaching wizards in lime green robes. 

Bill raked a hand through his hair, a gesture so similar to his brother that it made Rosemary's stomach twist. “I haven’t written much,” he said apologetically. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s alright,” Rosemary assured him hurriedly. “I haven’t exactly been very communicative either.” They both smiled wan smiles that didn’t feel very happy in the midst of the scene around them. 

“Listen,” Rosemary said urgently. “I’m meeting Tonks later in the week before Jacob and I go abroad,” Rosemary said under her breath so that Percy who was still within earshot wouldn't overhear. “I think—” she hesitated slightly before finishing her sentence in a rush. “I think you should both be there. It’s about this.” She waved a hand over the partially destroyed campsite.

“Both of us?” Bill asked sharply. “What’s going on?” 

“Jacob and I—” Rosemary stopped herself again. “It’s important,” she answered finally. “You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.” 

Bill looked like he wanted to argue, but Rosemary flashed him a look that she hoped conveyed ' _not here, not now'_ strongly enough. He nodded, catching the meaning in Rosemary’s eyes. His expression darkened as he looked around. 

“Rosemary, the last time the Dark mark was seen in Britain, I hadn’t started Hogwarts yet. What the hell is going on?” 

“Something bad,” Rosemary whispered. 

The green light from above made Bill’s face look even paler as Rosemary’s words hung in the space between.

“Rosemary, we’ve got to go look for the rest of them. We sent the kids into the woods and we lost Dad in the thick of things.” 

“You’re bleeding too,” Rosemary pointed out to a gash that had opened up in his arm. “You'd better get that tended to.” 

“I’ll patch it up at the tent,” Bill said dismissively, but he still pressed a hand to his open wound to staunch the bleeding. “I’ll wait for your owl then, and I’ll try to convince—” 

He broke off his sentence, hesitating slightly before finishing his thought. “I’ll make sure Charlie comes with me.” 

Rosemary nodded tightly, glancing over at Charlie again. He still had not made any notice that he had seen her, and she couldn’t read his expression because his back pointedly turned towards her. Not that it would have done her much good, Charlie was always much too good keeping his face emotionless.

“Bill, we need to go,” Percy broke in suddenly. “Father will be looking for us,” he continued as craned his neck over the people around him as if to try and catch sight of his father in the chaos. “And the kids, they’re on their own. Harry, the Dark Mark—” 

Bill muttered an oath under his breath. For a moment Rosemary was confused, but then she realized why this was so important. Ron’s friend was Harry Potter. The Dark Mark, Sirius Black escaping from Azkaban last year…Rosemary felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle. 

“We’d better make sure they’re okay,” Bill told her worriedly. “I’ll see you soon Rosemary, I promise.” He gave an anxious glance over at Charlie again, who had still not turned. 

“Go,” Rosemary said thickly, ignoring the squeezing in her chest. “I’ll write soon.” 

Bill gave her a pained look and gave her arm a tight squeeze before turning on his heel with Percy right behind him. 

Rosemary watched as the two of them walked back towards where Charlie stood, and the three of them strode away quickly. Only Bill spared a glance backward, giving her a quick, furrowed glance before turning away. Try as she may to tear her eyes away, Rosemary couldn't help but stare at the back of Charlie’s head until it disappeared into the crowds of panicked people. 

It had been inevitable, seeing Charlie again. Rosemary had been waiting for it all day, ever since Mr. Weasley had said his name. But there was nothing like the real thing, flesh and blood and staring past her. Just like she had asked for. 

It was for the best, Rosemary thought to herself. This is how she had wanted things to be between them, and this is how they would remain. But despite it all, that part in her heart that had Charlie’s name written indelibly on it wanted nothing more than to feel his arms around her as if their warmth could somehow make all of this fade from view.

A hand on her arm distracted Rosemary. Jacob had an uncharacteristically strained look on his face as he watched the Mediwizards tend to the disoriented Muggles. She could only imagine that her expression mirrored his. 

“C’mon,” he said, tugging on her arm lightly, away from the huddle. “We should go tell them we’re alright. Mum and Dad’ll be worried.” 

Jacob tripped over slightly at the mention of their father, but he mentioned him nonetheless, something he hadn’t done for the past year. It wasn’t much, but it was something. 

They walked through the gloom of the later summer night side by side, and as the skull glittered above them like a thousand emeralds slipped across the dark of the night, a single fearful thought made Rosemary’s throat constrict.

_This is only the beginning._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PART TWO BEGINS! With a looooong chapter, the longest I've ever written I think! Over 10,000 words! But this chapter was super heavy with exposition to kick off Part 2! I believe that all of our main characters have now been introduced in some way or another, and a few important plot points have been introduced as well. Next update will look a lot more familiar, way less plot and a lot more tension/angst! Remember to follow my tumblr @penandlily for more info (i posted a full family tree and their coat of arms!!!) -Lily
> 
> Notes:  
> -I'm so sorry for all of this exposition, I had so much to fit in one update that I lost the thread at some points. So much of this chapter is going to come back later in the fic, that I needed to put it in.  
> -What is this mysterious ob that Rosemary is doing at Hogwarts? More on that later!  
> -Keeping to canon is going to a little harder from now on, as Rosemary and Harry can't meet yet! So I have to work around that, hence the other 'top box' and the private campsite.  
> -So little Charlie this update unfortunately, but I promise we're getting more of him next update. We're also going to learn what happened to Rosemary and Jacob in Albania.  
> -Characters like Jacob, Deianira, and even Rosemary's uncle have a lot layers to them! We're going to get to know them a lot better from now on.  
> -Deianira's name comes from Greek Mythology (very similar to Black family names), it's the name of Hercules' second wife who ended up accidentally murdering him. She's actually named after her maternal grandmother, the original Deianira.   
> -Next chapter: Another family reunion. A Hogwarts family reunion that is.


End file.
